Backwards
by Fragilereality
Summary: Hermione Granger, War Hero, Princess of Gryffindor, Order of Merlin first class longs to add Minster of Magic to her list of titles. Unfortunately her ongoing affair with ex-death eater and acquitted war criminal turned PR agent Lucius Malfoy might make the task even more challenging. Rated M for graphic sex and gratuitous swearing.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N** **I think I'm supposed to write some sort of disclaimer - along the lines of I don't own any of these characters and they are all owned by JK Rowling and I am totally not making any money from this - but I am having so much fun, I hope that is allowed. This story contains graphic sex scenes and a lot of crude language so please don't read it if you are likely to be offended by such things or are under eighteen.**

Lucius Malfoy had been fucking Hermione Granger for several months now. Whilst fully cognisant of his many flaws Lucius did not consider himself to be a vulgar man, nonetheless he could see no better way in which to articulate his relationship, such as it was, with the undeniably delectable Miss Granger.

It had started in the unlikely setting of a Hogwarts board of governors meeting. Lucius had not been particularly surprised to see Miss Granger there. She had moved through the ranks of the ministry like a hot knife through butter and at twenty five was tipped to become not just the first female minister for magic but the youngest ever to boot. That she had somehow bulldozed her way into the old boys club of the Hogwarts board was simply further evidence of her temerity.

Her presence had made the meeting slightly less dull than usual. Lucius had allowed his eyes to roam over her figure as she heatedly debated the need for scholarships for muggle born students. She had grown up and outwards since the war. Her childhood scrawniness had been replaced by some frankly lush curves he noted, although her demure black robes hid her assets rather better than he would have liked. Her previously bushy hair was now a mane of shiny ringlets surrounding the still pleasantly delicate features of her face. He indulged himself most in admiring her lips. Her mouth was small and frequently opened to spew forth intensely irritating pro-muggle propaganda. Lucius much preferred to imagine what those soft pink lips would look like were they parted lovingly around his hard cock.

Eventually the force of his scrutiny broke through even Miss Granger's thick skin and she glanced across at him. Seeing his eyes on hers she returned his appraisal her brown eyed gaze running over his form, assessing him as he had her. Lucius was not discomfited. Despite being well into his wizarding middle age he knew he still looked as good as he had done in his twenties. If Miss Granger wished to feast her eyes on him then who was he to stop her? He was surprised when her appraisal ended abruptly. She looked away, a faint blush staining her cheeks.

He waited impatiently for the meeting to end then strode out of the building only to linger at the apparition point outside the gates of the castle. Miss Granger took her sweet time; finally slipping through the gates waving a cheerful goodbye to the dreadful half giant groundskeeper Minerva seemed so unwilling to get rid of. As soon as Hagrid's back was turned Lucius stepped into view. Miss Granger hesitated, eyeing him warily before stepping within touching distance. Neither of them spoke. Lucius simply grabbed her and apparated straight into Malfoy Manor.

He fucked her on her hands and knees on the cool marble tiles of his hallway. Such was the urgency of their coupling that it was only her dripping wetness and the fact that she came almost as soon as he entered her that confirmed she had truly wanted him. His own orgasm ripped through him almost as quickly as hers and before he knew it they were on their feet again. Miss Granger straightened her robes, breathing a little heavily, gave him a gracious nod and disapparated.

Lucius had thought it a one off. A delicious interlude in what had become a mundane life. Since Narcissa had left him his sexual appetite had receded and the re-awakening of his libido at the hands of Miss Granger was not wholly welcome. He did not enjoy waking up each morning with a raging hard on. He could not remember when he had last been forced to masturbate in the shower in order to appear decent by breakfast and he did not appreciate his member's new and unwelcome habit of swelling at random times throughout the day at the memory of Miss Granger's hot, wet cunt.

Despite his new ardour, on encountering Miss Granger in the ministry hallways the following week he ignored her as pointedly as she ignored him. Of course his cock was not as subtle as the rest of him and sprang to attention pointing toward her like a divining rod. Lucius ignored it in much the same way that he ignored the mudblood. He concluded his meetings as quickly as possible, longing to get home to Malfoy Manor and the oblivion of a bottle of firewhisky and his own hand.

He had not been home long when he felt the wards surrounding his house flicker. Somebody was outside the gates. Ordinarily he would have sent a house elf to investigate but, seized by sudden hope he made his own way down the perimeter of his grounds where he saw Miss Granger leaning against the gates with a deliberate look of insouciance.

They did not even make it through the gates this time. He lifted her robes and plunged into her, pressing her back against the metal bars enjoying the sound of the gates clanking along with her visceral wails of pleasure. It took her longer to come this time but as soon as she did the tight walls of her sex milked his own orgasm from him and he emptied himself into her, biting into the soft flesh of her neck. He held her there for a minute, her back against the gates, her legs wrapped around his waist, her flesh still pulsing around him. Time was briefly frozen before she pressed small but insistent hands against his chest and he stepped back, releasing her. Her robes fell around her as if nothing had happened and once more she disapparated leaving Lucius wondering if the whole thing had been a fantasy. The interlude had lasted less than five minutes.

The following week found Lucius outside the door of her depressing muggle flat. Bribery and intimidation had easily provided her address but he had been standing outside her residence, uncertain of his welcome for several minutes. Finally he had summoned one of the better bottles of wine from his cellar and knocked firmly on the door. Miss Granger had not been swift to answer and had opened the door dressed only in a whimsical silk dressing gown which clung to her not quite dry body suggesting to Lucius he had called her out of the bath. She stood frozen in the doorway until Lucius took matters into his own hands and strode past her into the flat. It was small and dominated by books. He took little interest in the surroundings.

"The bedroom?" He asked, not unaware that this was the first time he had directly addressed her. She pointed wordlessly to a doorway on one side of the room. He swept through it taking in a good sized, white painted room with a surprisingly large and ornate double bed. He placed the bottle of wine on her cluttered dressing table and dropped his outer robes to the floor. Turning impatiently he was just in time to see Miss Granger step through the doorway. She looked at him steadily for a long moment before her hands went to the sash of her dressing gown and she allowed it to fall to the floor.

Fucking her on the bed was a revelation. She came three times before he granted her any respite. Afterwards they lay together, sticky with their own and each other's sweat. Eventually Lucius felt his skin begin to chill and he sat up looking around for his clothes. Miss Granger, half asleep had placed a gentle hand on his forearm.  
"Stay." Her first word to him. He was surprised when he obeyed the command. He drew the covers over the two of them and promptly fell asleep. He woke up once during the night to debauch her further, fucked her hard around six am and apparated home in time to clean up for his morning meeting with his financial advisor.

Since then he had been something of a regular visitor at Miss Granger's residence. She liked to be fucked hard with little finesse and less foreplay. The more selfish Lucius was the quicker she came. He wrung her orgasms from her, pounding hard against her cervix her cries of pain and pleasure indistinguishable. Occasionally he would torment her with slow measured strokes until she screamed, scratched and bit extolling him to fuck her harder. It was one of the few times she spoke to him.

He visited several times a week usually arriving just as she was about to retire and fucking her into unconsciousness for the night. Once he had arrived to find her still cooking dinner, finding her engaged in an act of domesticity had confused him for a moment. She was wearing muggle jeans and an apron. He had shaken off his disquiet at seeing her clothed and had placed her cooking under a stasis charm before stripping off the hideous (but remarkably alluring) trousers, lifting her onto the cold granite worktop and fucking her until she screamed. After they were finished she had calmly replaced her jeans and proceeded to serve them both dinner which they ate in silence. Her cooking was excellent even better than that of his house elves. After dinner they read quietly, Lucius finding several texts on her bookshelves not contained even within his extensive and much lauded library. Later they retired to bed and he fucked her again.

He did not repeat the dinner incident too frequently. Fucking a mudblood was one thing, allowing her to regularly cook for him was quite another. Although her cooking was exceptionally good and he could not help it if he was a poor time keeper and had a tendency to arrive earlier than he planned.

One evening his knock on her door went unanswered. He had furrowed his brow in consternation. She had never failed to grant him access before and she had not informed him of any plans to be absent. He had set to work removing her wards. They were adequate but no match for his skills. The muggle lock took longer to master. Finding the bottle of wine they had never got round to drinking he had poured himself a glass and settled down to wait with one of her books.

It had been almost midnight when she returned; strolling into the living room clad in a figure hugging black dress. Lucius was well acquainted with the lines of her body by this time but still he took a moment to appreciate the swell of her breasts against the clinging, low cut fabric and the long, slender lines of her legs beneath the short skirt. Her eyes widened when she saw him reclining in her only armchair, legs crossed and glass of wine still in hand.  
"What are you doing here?" Her voice held only curiosity.  
He raised an eyebrow. "Waiting for you."  
"Oh." She placed a small handbag on the coffee table. "I had a date."  
He raised the other eyebrow, slowly putting down his glass while he considered this new development. Finally he looked around exaggeratedly. "Did you bring him home?"  
Miss Granger shook her head. "It was a _first_ date." She emphasised.  
"I don't follow."  
She sighed. "I don't fuck on the first date."

Lucius considered this, their longest conversation to date as he fastidiously marked his place in the text on hieroglyphics and their influence on ancient runes. Finally he gave a lazy flick of his wand and non-verbally summoned the woman. She tumbled into his lap with a surprised exclamation. He fumbled between them for a moment before pulling her legs over his and sinking himself into her wet heat. She gave a little gasp, he had never allowed her on top before and she clearly liked it. She rode him hard, her glorious tits bouncing in his face until Lucius disgraced himself by coming before her.

He took her to bed and made up for his omission. Just before sleep claimed him he tightened his hand on her waist.  
"Miss Granger I would prefer in future for you not to go on any more 'dates'."  
There was silence for a moment, he wondered if she was already asleep. "Ok." She answered.

Lucius continued to spend almost every night fucking Miss Granger. Occasionally his commitments in the political or business world left him unable to visit her. He did not enjoy the nights he was forced to sleep alone but he told himself that it was probably good to keep the young witch on her toes and to stop her from becoming too dependent on him. One evening after a particularly long and boring dinner meeting over which he had consumed far too much claret he arrived home to the Manor to find it most unappealing. Everything was as grand and beautiful as ever, every carefully chosen item in its place. The house was a soothing balm against the disorganised clutter of Miss Granger's tiny flat. He strode from room to room unable to settle. Finally he risked splinching himself apparating to outside her flat and letting himself in through the wards which fortunately now recognised him. She was asleep, soft and warm, huddled in a self contained fashion on her own side of the bed. He slipped in beside her gathering an armful of warm witch against his chilled body. He would fuck her as soon as he warmed up.

He woke up the following morning to a terrible hangover and an empty flat. Miss Granger had already left for work but in the kitchen, under a stasis charm he found a perfectly cooked fluffy omelette and a pot of tea.

The more he fucked Miss Granger the more she intrigued him. She demanded nothing of him, indeed she showed little interest in him beyond his cock. Lucius appreciated this. He had changed since the war but he felt no need to justify himself to Miss Granger or to anyone else. Had she asked for any sort of proof of his redemption he would have been forced to end their liaison immediately. It therefore surprised him when he began to wonder what Miss Granger thought. Not about the great questions in life but regarding smaller matters. Like the new tea his house elves had taken to purchasing, would she approve of the blend? His tailor was overhauling his wardrobe and he had seriously considered asking her if she preferred him in navy or black until he thought better of it and guessed that her answer would be that she preferred him naked.

Eventually his need to consult her on matters pertaining to his life grew overwhelming. One night after he had fucked her and she laid in his arms her eyes glazed with pleasure he had nuzzled his nose against her neck.  
"I'm considering dumping my Gringotts stock." He murmured, flicking his tongue out to taste the sweat on her skin. "What do you think?"  
She had frozen momentarily, her fingers which had been playing with one of his nipples stilling for a moment. After what seemed like a very long period of thought she had resumed her movements.  
"I removed all of my own stock from Gringotts yesterday." She had answered.

Lucius had waited until she was asleep before placing a floo call to his broker. The next day the Gringotts stock rose marginally. He cursed Miss Granger and vowed never to consult her on any matter from tea to asset management again. The following day the banks' share price crashed spectacularly, wiping out overnight the fortunes of many of his acquaintances. On hearing the news Lucius flooed into the ministry and made his way directly to Miss Granger's office. He dismissed the toady she was meeting with and dropping to his knees buried his face between her legs for long enough to render her quite insensible and to make his gratitude quite clear.

Lucius had grown used to spending at least the latter parts of his evenings with Miss Granger. That was obviously why he was finding this particular evening tediously long. Miss Granger was attending the ministry's summer ball. She had hesitantly asked Lucius if he too planned on going and then, much to his chagrin, looked a little relieved when he said that he was not. Miss Granger was clearly as discomfited by their regular fucking as he was.

Whilst his influence remained Lucius had lost his appetite for politics. Deep down he might still believe in pureblood supremacy but he no longer had the conviction necessary to fight for his beliefs either politically of physically. Indeed when he gave it much thought he was forced to admit that the wizarding world was rubbing along just fine in the hands of the muggle borns. More and more of them had obtained positions in the ministry and they ran things with a competent rationality which seemed beyond many purebloods. Lucius had no desire to see and be seen, to curry favour with the current minister and to influence the future of the wizarding world. Furthermore even he did not enjoy being stared at in terror by those who remembered him as an active Death Eater. No, it was best that he stay away from the ministry ball, even if he had been offered a VIP ticket.

He cast a tempus charm. Was it really only 9pm? He considered going to Miss Granger's flat to await her return then dismissed the idea immediately. Instead he poured himself a glass of brandy and then promptly ignored it pacing through the rooms of his beautiful, empty home. Eventually he found himself in his bedroom changing into his new dress robes (he had decided that Miss Granger must prefer him in his habitual black) and shaving for the second time that day before making his way to the floo where he set his course for the ministry before he could change his mind.

The ball was in full swing and the two security trolls on the door gave him only the briefest of glances before allowing him to enter. He scanned the throng for his target. There she was, talking to Potter - of course, why would things be easy? The Boy Who Lived noticed him first and inclined his head just enough not to be rude.  
"Mr Malfoy."  
"Mr Potter." He returned the only-just-not-rude head nod.  
Miss Granger turned wide eyed to stare up at him. She was wearing a green silk dress, the coweld neck draped artfully across her bosom, her neck and arms exposed. She looked beautiful.  
"Miss Granger."  
"Mr Malfoy." She smiled but her eyes were tight with anxiety.  
"Miss Granger I wonder if you might do me the honour of this next dance?"  
Her eyes widened to saucers and she glanced quickly at her friend.  
"Go on Hermione," Potter looked surprisingly unconcerned, "I'm sure he won't do anything worse than stand on your toes."  
Miss Granger still looked unconvinced but placed a delicate hand on his proffered arm.

They moved onto the floor and he wrapped her in his arms holding her body close against his. It felt like the most natural thing in the world. Miss Granger still looked bemused.  
"I can't believe Harry just let me go with you, you could have all sorts of nefarious intentions."  
He looked down into her caramel coloured eyes. "Oh I assure you I do." He glanced over towards potter who was chatting politely with the minister for magic. "I believe Potter has finally learned the necessity for diplomacy over violence, at least in my case."  
Miss Granger pursed her lips. "Perhaps."

They danced in silence for several minutes, she followed his lead without complaint, her soft body pliant against his. His erect cock pressed against her stomach. She looked up again. "You do realise that this is the longest we've ever touched without…." Her voice tailed off delicately  
"Fucking?" He smirked at her and began to steer her towards the door. "That can easily be remedied."  
"Stop Lucius!" It was the first time she had ever said his name. He stopped. "I can't leave."  
"Why not?" He pressed his cock just a little more firmly against her, she bit her lip.  
"Because I have to give a speech."  
"What about?"  
"About the werewolf rights bill, it was passed today." Her face broke into a proud smile which he struggled not to return. He hadn't realised that the bill had finally cleared the Wizengamot. It had met with serious opposition and Lucius had had to use all of his not inconsiderable influence and some of his even greater fortune to ease its passage. This was because he had many friends who were werewolves, he told himself firmly. It was not in any way because Miss Granger was the author and main proponent of the bill.

"Miss Granger." They were dancing again.  
"Yes."  
"I would like to have dinner with you tomorrow evening."  
"You've eaten dinner at my flat every evening for the past fortnight, I've been considering charging you rent." Her eyes were sparkling, he thought she was amused. He cast his mind back, had he really spent every evening with her? It didn't seem like it, he had thought he was playing it cool. He cleared his throat.  
"You misunderstand me. I would like to take you to dinner in a restaurant."  
She tripped over his feet, he tightened his grip to prevent her from falling and his cock bobbed in approval as her body slid against his.  
"You want to take _me_ out for dinner?"  
"Yes."  
"In a _restaurant_?"  
"Yes." This was becoming tiresome, wasn't she supposed to be the brightest witch of her age?  
"A wizarding restaurant?"  
"Miss Granger, I can hardly see myself in the muggle world can you?"  
"Hermione."  
"What?"  
"My name is Hermione."  
"Very well."

They danced in silence for almost a minute, not that he was counting the seconds.  
"You haven't given me an answer?"  
"I haven't decided."  
"Surely it isn't that difficult a decision to make."  
"Will you pull out my chair for me?"  
"Of course."  
"Will you place my napkin in my lap?"  
"That's really the waiter's job but if it makes you happy then yes."  
"Will you explain the dishes on the menu I don't understand?"  
"Yes"  
"Without rolling your eyes?"  
"Possibly."  
"Will you let me order whatever I want even if you don't approve?"  
"Yes."  
"Will you let me chose the wine?"  
"Of course not!"  
She smiled brightly at him."Will you take me back to Malfoy Manor when we're finished and fuck me senseless?"  
He felt a burst of warmth somewhere in the region of his heart. Aside from their first two couplings all of their trysts had taken place in her home. He was always the one to come to her and he had begun to fear that perhaps it being the site of her previous captivity and torture had put her off his ancestral pile. If she was willing to overlook these obstacles then maybe she really had come to care for him. He realised she was still waiting for his answer.  
"I'm afraid not."  
Her brown eyes widened with shock and disappointment. "Why not?"  
He bent his head so his lips were almost touching her exposed ear. "Because," he breathed, noting the goose bumps which formed in the wake of the warm air, "You don't fuck on the first date."

Hermione Granger giggled. Then she pulled him to a stop and stood up on her tiptoes. She had to extend fully, her body pressed against his from thigh to chest and even then she had to pull his head down to hers but finally their lips were within touching distance and she kissed him hard on the mouth in full view of the great, the good and the disreputable of the wizarding world.  
"I think." She said, her lips still touching his as she spoke, her tongue flicking out to run along his lower lip, "that in this one instance I may be able to make an exception."


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N** Thank you so much to all the people who reviewed, followed and favourite this story. It's my first ever fanfic and I'm not really sure I expected anybody to read it! I must confess I had planned this as a one shot but I forgot to tick the complete box when I was posting it. A few people have asked for more and I haven't been able to stop thinking about what might happen next so I've plotted out a longer story - I think it will be about ten chapters.

Thanks again to everyone who reviewed, I haven't quite worked out how to answer them yet but they made my day!

* * *

Was there something on the wall behind her? Hermione turned as subtly as she could to see nothing but grey stone. She raised a hesitant hand to her brown curls, it wouldn't be the first time she had gone out with a quill still stuck in her birds nest hair. Anxiously she smoothed her locks, there didn't seem to be anything there. Across the Hogwarts boardroom Lucius Malfoy smirked and continued to stare at her.

 _What?_ She thought irritably. Did she have food around her mouth? A smudge of soot on her cheek from an earlier floo trip? Why on earth was Lucius Malfoy ex-death eater extraordinnaire staring at her with such interest? His grey eyed gaze dropped down from her face to linger on her breasts.  
 _Oh!  
_ Hermione's eyes clashed with his.  
 _He wants me!  
Surely not._

Well two could play his game. She returned his appraisal with equal frankness, starting at his flowing blond hair and working her way down his torso, she was only sorry that the boardroom table prevented her from ogling his crotch.

Lucius Malfoy must be nearing fifty but he was still the most irritatingly handsome man Hermione had ever seen. He must have a hideous portrait shut away in some unused wing of Malfoy Manor she thought bitterly regarding the smooth, unlined skin around his grey eyes, his aquiline nose and the full, plush curves of his mouth. His hair was as silky as ever, without a hint even of grey and his torso, as far as she could tell, remained hard beneath his clothes. No hint of the paunch he so richly deserved. How could anyone so evil be so beautiful?

He was still staring at her, completely still, his attention riveted on her body. She was about to look away, bored of whatever game he was playing when she felt it, a flicker of desire which rapidly burst into flame.  
 _Oh no! Not here not now!  
_ She looked away a blush staining her cheeks. How could she? After all she had seen, after all he had done, how could she want this man?

He was waiting for her at the gates. She knew it as soon as she saw him still standing there after everyone else had departed. Still staring her with those cool grey eyes which somehow managed to set her on fire.  
 _Walk away,_ she told herself, _just ignore him and walk away.  
_ Instead, ensnared by his serpent like gaze, she moved close enough for him to wrap his arms around her.

When the dizziness of apparition wore off she realised she was in Malfoy Manor. Not a place she would ever have chosen to visit again but the terror and anger she would have expected was absent. All she felt was a thrumming heat between her legs, almost painful in its urgency. She didn't quite know how she ended up on her hands and knees one the marble floor. He was behind her, urgently pushing her clothes out of the way, tearing her knickers. She was almost sobbing with the need to feel him inside her and as soon as he plunged his cock into her slick wetness she felt herself shatter in the most mind blowing orgasm she had ever experienced. Too overcome to wonder if premature ejaculation was as disappointing in women as it was in men she could do nothing but moan as her body contracted endlessly around his. Malfoy didn't fare much better than she. After a few desperate thrusts which had her sliding across the marble floor he swore loudly and began to pulse within her setting off another flurry of contractions she was unable to control.

The entire thing was over in seconds and he pulled out of her abruptly, helping her to her feet with something of his usual overstated chivalry. She stared at him for a moment, his cheeks were flushed and his hair a little less pristine than usual but otherwise he was a perfect as always. She nodded briefly at him and apparated away.

She could not believe she had fucked Lucius Malfoy. Well actually, Lucius Malfoy had fucked her. And she had liked it. Well not liked exactly. Hermione took a restorative sip of tea and stroked Crookshanks who was asleep in her lap. It had of course been the best orgasm she had ever experienced but in truth the sex hadn't been great. It was clear to her that the _idea_ of being fucked by Lucius Malfoy was what had turned her on so spectacularly. He had done nothing really other than stick his cock in her, the rest had all been her. She clenched her thighs in remembered pleasure, admittedly he had had a very large cock and it had felt spectacular as he filled her with it but he hadn't exactly conducted himself with the skill and artistry she had expected. When he had apparated away with her she had half expected to spend the next twenty four hours being made love to by a skilled master of seduction. The reality had probably been closer to twenty four seconds, although it may well have been the best twenty four seconds of her life so far.

Based on her hypothesis that it was the idea of Lucius Malfoy that was central to her ongoing sexual satisfaction Hermione purchased a very large vibrator and let her imagination go to town. For the next week she and Lucius conducted a torrid affair in her head which saw him take advantage of her in almost every way possible. It was thrilling, terrifying and ultimately unsatisfying. Yes she got herself off adequately every time but nothing came close to the orgasm she had experienced with Lucius.

Hermione was a pragmatist. Her sex life to-date had been mediocre at best and until Lucius Malfoy had decided to stare at her breasts during the Hogwarts board of governors meeting she had not necessarily been particularly unhappy with this. Sex could be a distraction, at least mediocre sex was unlikely to distract her from her work. But Lucius...Lucius was distracting her with his very memory.

By the end of the week Hermione had worked herself up into such a state of sexual frustration that when she saw Lucius in the corridor at the ministry she almost Imperioed him on the spot. Never had she come so close to using an unforgivable curse. The brief look he had given her had been cool and disinterested but Hermione was too far gone at this point to consider the possibility that he didn't want her as badly as she wanted him. She had placed a tracker charm on his retreating back and as soon as he made it home she had apparated straight to Malfoy Manor.

The sex the second time had been considerably more satisfying. She had managed not to come as soon as he entered her although Merlin knew how when she was so turned on at the sight of him. This time she got to look at his beautiful face as he fucked her. His cold grey eyes narrowed into slits, his mouth twisted into a sneer as he plunged into her. Hermione was no legilimens but she could almost hear his thoughts, could feel his horror and revulsion as he fucked a mudblood desperately against the gates of his family home. He was as powerless to resist this strange attraction as she and it was this knowledge which tumbled her over the edge bringing her to a climax even more seismic than the one she had experienced with him before. She had needed to get away, to leave immediately before she fell at his feet and begged him to keep her forever.

She would not do that again. She promised herself firmly. She even made a note in her diary.  
 _I absolutely will not fuck Lucius Malfoy again.  
_ Three days later she tore the page out of her diary and burnt it. Then she made a list of possible ways in which she might 'casually' encounter Lucius Malfoy. She burnt that too.

The following day he appeared outside her flat, clutching a bottle of wine and looking...nervous? Surely not. She took him into her bedroom and that was where it happened. That was when the Lucius Malfoy she had imagined suddenly took shape in reality. He was brutal. There was not an ounce of affection or gentleness in the way he took her. He wrung her orgasms from her with brute force, leaving her whimpering, pleading with him to stop or not stop, she wasn't sure which. By the time he allowed himself to come, shuddering violently on top of her Hermione was lost. She was too exhausted to think, to question, to wonder what any of this meant. All she knew, as he began to reach for his clothes, was that he could not be allowed to leave.  
"Stay." She placed her hand on his arm. She would not embarrass herself with further begging but she allowed some of her need to show in her eyes. He looked at her with surprise. Then some unidentifiable emotion flickered across his face. Wordlessly he lay down next to her, pulling the sheets over their bodies.

He came back. More than once, several times, then almost every day. Every time Hermione promised herself that it would be the last time. That she would turn him away. She had a ten year plan and taking a lover who had once been Lord Voldemort's staunchest supporter was not part of it. She shuddered to think what her friends would say if they found out who was warming her bed. So she didn't tell them. This was infinitely preferable to getting rid of Lucius.

They didn't talk. Not unless you counted words like 'Harder, faster, please, oh please fuck me now' in which case Hermione was an insufferable chatterbox whilst Lucius remained generally taciturn. Despite their lack of conversation their time together was companionable. Whilst Lucius's primary purpose was undoubtedly to satisfy a libido which Hermione had not known she possessed he surprised her by providing companionship with his silent presence. Hermione had never known herself to go so long in the company of another person without asking questions but with Lucius she felt strangely comfortable. Perhaps it was an illusion. Common sense dictated that if she and Lucius were to discuss anything, other than which sexual position they favoured, then they would disagree, it therefore seemed better that they simply not talk thus securing the future of their immensely satisfying sex life.

She couldn't go on like this. It was unhealthy. She knew it. Her friends hadn't noticed yet, she hadn't really gone out much before she had started fucking Lucius and dates had been few and far between. Nonetheless she had her ten year plan. She was supposed to be meeting her future husband sometime in the next two years and she wasn't going to meet anybody underneath Lucius Malfoy.

Taking this into consideration she accepted the next date she was invited on from a colleague at the ministry. Hermione was head of muggle relations and her counterpart in goblin relations had been making eyes at her for months. He was a tall, blond haired pureblood. It was just a co-incidence Hermione told herself as she prepared for their date. She wondered if Lucius would come to her flat that evening. If so he would realise she wasn't in and take himself home again. She wondered if he had any other witches on the go and mentally slapped herself when her subconscious recoiled at the thought.  
 _Lucius Malfoy will never be yours._ She told herself firmly.  
 _So go out and find yourself a decent husband, not an ex-death eater old enough to be your father._

The date wasn't exactly a disaster. To classify it as such Hermione would have had to have been considerably more invested in the process. It was dull. She didn't want to talk to Simon. Even though she loved her job and was interested in his. Even though he was tall and blond and terribly good looking. Even though it was election year and he would be a valuable ally should she decide to stand for minister (this thought alone prolonged the date at least two hours beyond what would otherwise have been its shelf life.) Despite the evening having as much sexual tension as one of Professor Binns' lessons on the goblin rebellions Hermione still allowed Simon to kiss her at the apparition point before she made her way home.

She had hoped that her sexual awakening at the hands of Lucius was more of a generalised process. That he had somehow opened a doorway within her psyche fundamentally changing the way she felt about sex with all partners. She had genuinely hoped that Simon would set her alight in the same way that Lucius did. She remained decidedly unignited. She gently untangled herself from her date and apparated home. Outside her door she hesitated, casting a tempus charm. It was almost midnight, too late to show up uninvited at Malfoy Manor.

Lucius was inside her flat. He was lounging in _her_ chair, reading one of _her_ books and (admittedly) drinking his own wine. He looked completely at home. She informed him of her date with a certain amount of malice. She kept her eyes on his, looking for something, a flicker of response, a suggestion that he was wounded by this information. There was nothing, he looked around him as if expecting his usurper to appear at any moment. When Simon was not forthcoming he had the audacity to summon her to his lap like she was a piece of baggage. Her indignation was short lived. It was dispelled as soon as he slid his cock inside her.

Lucius was a very dominant lover a fact which Hermione generally appreciated. In every other facet of her life she strove for control, absolute control where possible. It was exhausting. Sometimes she thought that she so readily accepted Lucius's incursion into her life because being held down and fucked was just so easy. Sex with Lucius left her sated and boneless and allowed her to fall into a deep dreamless sleep of the sort she had not enjoyed since before the war. All that being said it was also nice to have a chance to take charge over him for once. Whilst Hermione was under no illusion that she truly dominated Lucius in this position she enjoyed controlling the angle and speed of his penetration. She enjoyed even more seeing the naked desire in his eyes as he pulled down the top of her dress and divested her of her bra so he could watch her tits as she fucked him. Bouncing up and down in his lap also gave her the rare privilege of a front row seat when Lucius Malfoy completely lost control. Her eyes fixed on his Hermione caught the flicker of panic as she pushed him over the edge and he clutched her hips with bruising strength emptying himself into her in a succession of shuddering thrusts.

Afterwards he couldn't look at her. He picked her up, carried her into the bedroom and set to with his head between her legs and a degree of enthusiasm Hermione had never encountered before. Before she completely lost control of her faculties she considered the look of horror in his face as he realised that he was going to come before her. Clearly it was part of his pureblood code of honour that he could not leave a woman unsatisfied and his perceived failure had deeply shamed him. She might have considered it further had her orgasm not suddenly consumed her leaving her moaning helplessly and incapable of coherent thought.

She had just been about to fall asleep when he had made his unprecedented request that she not go on any further dates. Part of her had riled against his dictatorial tone. How dare he tell her what she could and could not do? Except he hadn't told her, he had merely stated his preferences. The reality was that Hermione didn't really want to go on another date. She would rather sit in silence with Lucius than engage anyone else in conversation. She decided not to give this rather disturbing revelation any further thought.

Hermione was absolutely not developing feelings for Lucius Malfoy. It was inconceivable. For one thing they had never had a conversation unless she counted him whispering obscenities regarding her blood status in her ear while he fucked her (that absolutely, definitely did not turn her on, at all). For another he had stood by and witnessed her torture at the hands of his insane sister in law and been the staunch supporter of the world's worst megalomaniac psychopath. These were all good reasons for her to keep her feelings regarding Lucius strictly carnal.

A very good reason for not developing any sort of tender feelings towards Lucius (aside from the strong arguments already given) was the fact that his interest had appeared to lie only in sex. Until the strange night he appeared in her bedroom after she had retired for the night. He undressed with all the finesse of someone who is slightly drunker than they think they are trying to be very quiet. Hermione was intrigued. She hadn't seen Lucius drunk before and she wondered how it would affect his sexual performance. She could not have been more surprised by his actions. He climbed carefully into the bed and edged closer to her pulling her into the circle of his arms. She waited, her body thrumming with expectation. His breathing slowed. Hermione let out a surprised huff. He was asleep!

He was still asleep when she left the next morning. She took her time admiring him before she slipped out of bed and into the bathroom. Lucius was always beautiful but in sleep he looked like an angel. The harsh lines of his face were completely erased, the calculating grey eyes hidden and the condescending sneer missing from his sculpted mouth. Hermione gave a soft sigh as she looked at him before reminding herself that if his personality was as beautiful as his face he would be a very boring man indeed and quite out of her league.

The ministry summer ball was approaching rapidly and Hermione's VIP ticket had arrived. She wondered if Lucius was going. Something imperceptible had changed between them but she couldn't quite put her finger on it. There had been a strange incident the previous week where Lucius had asked her what he ought to do with his Gringotts stock. He had sought her opinion and from his response the day the stock dropped she thought he had taken her advice. She smiled at the memory.

He had burst into her office and snarled a dismissal at poor Bertie Todsbury who was there to discuss strengthening the muggle repelling charms around the newly built national quidditch arena. Poor Bertie had fled and Lucius had warded the doors before dropping to his knees between Hermione's legs. He had pushed up her skirt, sliding his hands under her buttocks and pulling her forwards. To Hermione's slight irritation (they were her favourite pair) he had simply ripped her knickers apart before applying his tongue to her sex. Her irritation had been short lived. He had taken his time despite her hands twisting in his hair and her voice urging him on. Pushing her legs as widely apart as her skirt would allow he had run the flattened length of his tongue repeatedly up and down the lips of her sex before slipping the agile muscle between her folds. Hermione had whimpered as he fucked her with his tongue. He had replaced his tongue with his fingers moving his mouth up to the sensitive bud of her clitoris. He flicked backwards and forwards across it as his fingers plunged in and out of her wet slick sex. Hermione couldn't take it much longer. She heard her voice incoherently begging him not to stop. He didn't. Instead he hooked his fingers against the front wall of her vagina at the same time biting gently on her clitoris. Hermione exploded bucking her pelvis into his face, screaming his name as she came. When she unclasped her fingers from their death grip on his hair he had sat back on his heels and looked up at her with an inscrutable expression. Very slowly he had removed a handkerchief from his pocket (who carries a handkerchief?) and dabbed his lips. Then he had kissed the back of her hand and swept out of the room as though he hadn't just deconstructed her sexually on her office chair.

Perhaps the office incident was what was worrying her. It was a break in their routine, an indication that perhaps their relationship had shifted in some way. What on earth was she going to do if he suggested they attend the ministry ball together?

He didn't. In fact he wasn't going at all. Hermione didn't know whether to feel relieved or disappointed.

Except he did come to the ball. And he swept her out onto the dance floor like Cinderella and Prince Charming (if Prince Charming had been an Ex Death Eater of questionable moral standing) and then he asked her on a date! At least she thought it was a date. He wanted to take her to dinner. In a restaurant, to eat with her in public. And she was too afraid to accept. Everybody would see her. What on earth would they say, at the site of Hermione Granger, one third of the golden trio, the Princess of Gryffindor on a date with Lucius Malfoy? Rita Skeeter would have a field day. But then it occurred to her just how much Lucius had to lose. The head of one of the oldest and most illustrious pureblood families in the wizarding world dating a mudblood and Harry Potter's dearest friend to boot. If Lucius could put his prejudices aside then surely she could to. And she did want to go to dinner with him, she wanted to ask him irritating questions about the menu, she wanted to see which wine he would order, she wanted to run her foot along the back of his calf under the table. She wanted to have a conversation, she wanted to know what is favourite food was, whether he enjoyed quidditch (she hoped not) and just what products he used to keep his hair so silky smooth.

She wanted Lucius Malfoy and the world was going to find out eventually. Surely it would just be easier to make her declaration now? So she stood on her tiptoes and snogged him in front of the entire wizarding world including Harry and Ron and just hoped to hell that he was worth it.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N Thanks again to everybody who has followed and favourited and especially reviewed. It seriously makes my day when the little notifications pop into my inbox although I'm always scared to read them in case they are actually howlers! I need to include a warning for this chapter, it's pretty short and...I'm so sorry...I doesn't contain any sex - I thought I'd just be honest and put it out there. There's a lot of talk about it if that helps though. Normal service to resumed soon I promise.**

* * *

 **The Princess and the Villain!**

Last night's ministry ball gave everybody something to think about as war hero Hermione Granger, Order of Merlin First Class and best friend of Harry Potter was seen cosying up to none other than acquitted war criminal and ex death eater Lucius Malfoy.

According to one gobsmacked onlooker "They were dancing together and talking intimately, then she kissed him. She had a glazed look in her eyes, we wondered if she had been put under the imperius curse. They left together shortly afterwards."

Whilst Mr Potter and Mr Weasley were both present at the ball neither were available to comment on the scene.

Miss Granger was of course instrumental in the defeat of You-Know-Who whist Malfoy was well known as one of his staunchest supporters. It is not yet known how long the couple have been together or if they plan to make things official. One thing is certain though, this relationship is going to catch the imagination of wizarding world. Has Lucius reformed? Or has Miss Granger been seduced by the dark arts? Only time will tell. Keep reading your Daily Prophet for more intimate insights into the wizarding world's most enigmatic couple!

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"So you've been shagging Malfoy for weeks?" Ron stuffed a forkful of scrambled eggs into his mouth and chewed loudly as he waited for Hermione's answer. It was the morning after the night before and the three, slightly worse for wear, members of the golden trio had retreated to a greasy spoon in muggle London for a debriefing.  
"Months." Hermione corrected shortly, gazing again at the front page of the Daily Prophet upon which she repeatedly stretched onto her tiptoes to plant her lips against those of Lucius.  
"Nice photo." Harry snatched the paper from her hand and squinted at the picture, his glasses were broken, again. "You should ask them for a copy for your mantelpiece."  
"Git!" Hermione smacked his arm.

"You two are taking this remarkably well." She glanced curiously at her two friends.  
"We knew you were shagging someone." Ron looked up briefly from his breakfast special before returning to chasing baked beans across his plate. "You've been even harder to get hold of than usual."  
"Yeah, we had bets." Harry turned the prophet to look at the quidditch scores on the back page. "Ron thought it was Draco."  
"Draco!" Hermione's lip curled in horror.  
"Don't look so shocked." Ron gesticulated with a sausage, "Draco's a pretty cool guy these days."  
Hermione gaped. "Draco Malfoy is a pretty cool guy?"  
Ron shrugged, "yeah, he started auror training just after Christmas. We would have told you but we've hardly seen you what with you being so busy shagging his dad and all. Does he know by the way?"  
"No!" Hermione squeaked. She looked down at the prophet where Lucius most definitely had his hand on her backside. "Well, he probably does now." She appended.  
"Will you make him call you mummy?" Harry asked causing Ron to snigger and choke on his toast.  
"No! I won't make him call me anything." Hermione took a gulp of her tea. "We're just shagging O.K? There's nothing between Lucius and I but incredibly hot sex!"  
"Ew Mione!" Ron held up a hand pleadingly, "Some of us are trying to eat."  
"What? You're the one who was trying to set me up with Draco."  
"Yeah Draco's one thing." Ron waved a hand to signal the waitress over, "His geriatric father is quite another. Does he have grey pubes?"  
"No he does not!"

The waitress appeared at their table and Ron ordered a couple of croissants and another hot chocolate. Hermione prudently waited for her to leave before continuing. "He's not much older than the witch you were shagging last week."  
"Angelica was thirty-nine." Ron said indignantly. Hermione opened her mouth to retaliate when Harry, ever the peace maker, broke in.  
"Calm down you two. Ron, Malfoy is hot, we all know it, all the Slytherin girls at Hogwarts had massive crushes on him, no wonder Hermione wants to shag him. Mione, I'm glad you're finally getting some but you have to admit it's pretty weird to fuck someone who tried to kill you."  
Hermione sighed heavily and dragged her fork through her own congealing baked beans. "I know." She finally admitted. "But Harry I can't help it, he's just...really hot!"  
"We've established that." Ron re-entered the fray. "But did you really need to snog him at the ministry ball? That's something I can never un-see." He rubbed his eyes as if this might erase the image of Hermione and Lucius' public display.  
"Even if you do you'll have this as an eternal reminder." Harry helpfully waved the prophet under Ron's nose.

Hermione snatched the newspaper back and stuffed it into her bag. "Stop it, you'll get jam on it! And no I didn't _need_ to snog him but he had just asked me out and I had..." She hesitated, "...warm feelings towards him."  
Harry and Ron exchanged looks.  
"I'll take this one." Harry looked back towards Hermione. "Aren't you kind of going out with him already?"  
"No, we're just shagging."  
"But he has dinner with you?"  
"Yes."  
"He sleeps at your house almost every night?"  
"Yes."  
"He asked you what to do with his Gringott's stock?"  
"You asked me what to do with your Gringott's stock, that doesn't mean we're going out!"  
"No but we're not shagging."  
"Please mate!" Ron was holding up a croissant pleadingly. "I can just about cope with Hermione and Malfoy senior, but please, don't ever talk about you two shagging."  
"That's a bit unfair, you and Hermione shagged."  
"Yeah but you shagged my sister."  
"Fair point."

Hermione sighed and drank some more of her tea. The three sat in silence for a few minutes.  
"So you're going on a date?"  
"Maybe we could talk about something else Harry. How's Ginny?"  
"She's fine, so about the date, where are you going?"  
"Oh I don't know some restaurant."  
"You're going to a restaurant with Lucius Malfoy?"  
"Yes Ron, I am."  
"Which one?"  
"I think it's called the White Swan."  
Ron gave a groan of envy. "Fucks sake Mione, I'd do Malfoy myself for a meal there. I take it all back, you have my blessing."  
Hermione chewed her lip. "You've heard of it?"  
"Yes, I've heard of it, it's the best restaurant in the wizarding world."  
"Would you really expect anything less of Malfoy?" Harry asked.  
"I guess not." Hermione played with a coaster. "I'm a bit nervous she admitted."  
"You'll be fine." Ron said rather unconvincingly. "You can just play footsie with him under the table if you don't know which fork to use." Hermione gave an unconvinced hum.

"So do you really like him?" Harry broke the silence.  
"No!" Hermione shook her head vehemently. "I mean, we have amazing sex." Ron made vomiting noises but Hermione continued undaunted. "And I like his company but, you know, his past is a little checquered, there's no future in it."  
"Then why are you going out with him?" Harry looked awkward for a minute, shredding a napkin into his plate. "Mione are you doing this for the votes?"  
"Votes, what votes?"  
Harry was blushing now. "Come on Mione, don't act all innocent. It's election year. Everybody knows you're the public favourite for the next minister for magic but people think you won't get the pureblood vote and the Wizengamot will freeze you out. Now all of a sudden you're dating _the_ most pureblood wizard in the country, it's a bit of a coincidence don't you think?"  
"Come on now!" Ron sprayed them both with croissant crumbs as he spoke. "My blood is just as pure as Malfoy's."  
Neither of them dignified him with a response. Hermione's eyes were still fixed on Harry's. "I honestly hadn't thought of it that way Harry." She said quietly.

But later, on her way home, still nursing her hangover she couldn't help but think about it. There were no two ways about it a relationship with Lucius Malfoy _would_ undoubtedly alter her standing in the eyes of the Wizengamot.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N Ok so here's the next update. Again I'm terribly sorry, it's a bit low on smut! That's what happens when I try to introduce a plot. The good news is that if you bear with me the next few chapters are drafted and the smut content is definitely on the up. Also Draco is going to make an appearance - yay!**

 **Again thank you so much to everyone who has reviewed - it continues to make me very happy. badbadkitty - I really wanted to do a story where Ron and Harry weren't gits - I love them in the canon but think they often get a hard time in Hermione based fanfics. Zeeksmon - thank you for your lovely reviews - you are so kind it made me blush, Emma3mikan - thanks for sticking with me.**

* * *

She had almost cancelled their date several times that day. It was all very well to contemplate going out for dinner with Lucius when she was slightly tipsy from too much champagne and the exciting press of his erect member against her belly. It was quite another thing to consider their liaison in the cold light of day whilst she was being stared at by every other member of her department when they thought she wasn't looking. She had almost considered sending a memo around the whole ministry informing them that yes, she was fucking Lucius Malfoy and no, he hadn't imperioed her. The bloody minister for magic had actually had one of the aurors come to her office to check her for dark magic. Harry had practically pissed himself laughing and been unable to hold his wand in order to perform the necessary diagnostic spells. Hermione had been less amused.

Aside from the huge issue of Lucius' dark past and her own blossoming political career Hermione was troubled by concerns of a much deeper nature. She was going on a date with Lucius Malfoy to the most illustrious restaurant in wizarding Britain. The White Swan was a venue so desirable that Ron practically had a food induced orgasm every time she mentioned it and Hermione had absolutely no idea what to wear. She possessed a number of pretty muggle dresses and Lucius certainly hadn't object to the little black dress she'd worn for her date with Simon. Somehow though she suspected that he would not appreciate her turning up in muggle clothes for their date. Yet her dress robes didn't seem appropriate either.

Ordinarily Hermione would have consulted Ginny on the matter. Unfortunately she was too scared to face her. The younger witch was incredibly open minded but surely even she would have some issue with her friend seeing the man who had slipped a book containing part of Voldemort's soul into her cauldron. She supposed she could get in touch with Lavander or Parvati but she saw them infrequently and she wasn't sure they would be great supporters of her new relationship either. Of course Ron and Harry were out of the question.

Finally she had owled Fleur who could always be depended on to take a pragmatic view of things. She had met Hermione in Diagon Ally in her lunch hour and together they had hit the wizarding boutiques. Hermione was pleased with the green dress robes Fleur had helped her select. They were beautifully cut highlighting her slim figure and the soft roundness of her breasts without being too revealing. Their price tag had been suitably hefty and Hermione desperately hoped that they would be appropriate for The White Swan.

Fleur had offered to return to advise on hair and makeup that evening but Hermione had turned her down. She didn't want to look like she had made too much effort and she wasn't sure that the half veela knew how to achieve the understated look. It didn't take long for Hermione to regret her largesse. They were supposed to be dining at eight and at five to she was still desperately trying to tame her hair into some sort of sophisticated up-do. Finally, at two minutes past she was forced to simply fasten it away from her face with two silver clips and, taking a last miserable look at herself in the mirror, apparate to outside The White Swan.

She saw Lucius as soon as she entered the dimly lit restaurant. He was sipping from a goblet of wine and the long fingers of his left hand were beating an impatient tattoo on the pristine tablecloth. He stilled when he saw her approaching and smoothly rose to his feet.

"Ah, Miss Granger, Order of Merlin First Class and dearest friend of Harry Potter." His expression was inscrutable as he moved towards her. Hermione blushed furiously, unable to meet his eyes and gazing instead at the intricate silver embroidery on the shoulder of his robes. Lucius did not appear to be affected by her shyness. His hands came to rest on her waist, one of his thumbs gently stroking across her belly as he bent his head and kissed her possessively. Hermione sighed into his mouth revelling in the warmth of his soft lips against hers as his familiar scent enveloped her.

"You forgot war hero." She murmured against his lips.

"I'm so sorry." He nibbled her upper lip before raising his head.

Hermione gave a soft squeak of protest. "We could just leave." She suggested _sotto voice._

"Absolutely not." Releasing her Lucius pulled out her chair and deftly handed her into it before spreading her napkin across her lap. Hermione smiled up at him.

"Don't you see we have an audience?"

Hermione had been so caught up in the man before her that she hadn't realised that the little restaurant had gone silent as every diner and member of waiting staff had craned their necks to observe Lucius Malfoy greeting his date. Now at his steely stare they all suddenly became interested in their own conversations once more.

"I'm sorry about the Prophet Lucius."

"Why?" He settled himself back into his chair and nodded at a hovering waiter who quickly filled Hermione's goblet with wine. She took a long and fortifying gulp.

"It must have been embarrassing for you, to have your privacy invaded in such a way."

His gray eyes narrowed slightly as he regarded her flushed face. "I knew the photographers were there Hermione, I could have prevented you from kissing me had I chosen to do so. I chose to allow it."

"Why?" Unconsciously she echoed his previous question.

He shrugged, "Because I was tired of being Hermione Granger, war hero and order of Merlin first class's dirty little secret."

"Oh." Hermione took another swallow of wine and allowed her eyes to meet his, "I thought I was yours!"

They regarded each other in silence for several moments until the waiter politely cleared his throat and handed them their menus. Relieved to have something to hide behind Hermione eagerly opened hers. Prior to her entry into the wizarding world Hermione had led a comfortable life with her comfortably middle class parents. They had enjoyed regular trips to Europe and during the school holidays they had eaten out in respectable restaurants even if they were not quite to the standard of the White Swan. Nonetheless Hermione felt intimidated. The wealth surrounding her was painfully obvious. Her dinner partner was dressed in a set of robes which had probably cost more than her months salary. The table linen was so fine she couldn't bear to put her wine glass down on it and the other diners were so dripping with jewellery Hermione wondered how some of them could even lift their hands. One of her deepest fears, the subject of numerous nightmares once she had stopped dreaming about Voldemort, was her ignorance on a matter being exposed. As she opened her menu she feared that her nightmare may well be realised that evening.

"You may ask me three questions." Lucius' voice sounded both amused and smug from behind his own menu.

"What?"

"You may ask me three questions regarding the dishes on the menu."

Hermione pursed her lips keeping the card raised. "I distinctly remember you agreeing to answer _all_ my questions."

"Ah but then you were late. I have regrettably been forced to impose sanctions."

She lowered her menu in order to scowl at him, "Arse." She muttered.

Lucius raised a groomed eyebrow. "Such language Miss Granger."

Hermione continued to scowl and placed her menu neatly beside her place setting. "I know what I'm having."

"You don't wish to ask me anything?"

"No."

"You know what they say about pride and falls Miss Granger."

"I'm quite aware thank you Mr Malfoy. Shall we order."

He gave her a wolfish smile and signalled to the waiter who had been hovering more or less discretely in the background.

"Madam?" The waiter enquired.

Hermione gave him a tight smile. "I'll have the Balut scotch egg please and the Tete De Veau."

"Excellent choice Madam, Sir?" The waiter smiled obsequiously at Lucius who gave his own order before glancing back at Hermione.

"Last chance Miss Granger."

She fluttered her eyelashes, "Last chance for what Mr Malfoy?"

"Very well." He dismissed the waiter and topped up her wine glass himself. "I regret to inform you Miss Granger that there are only very specific circumstances under which I might be prevailed upon to share my food and this is most definitely not one of them."

Hermione didn't answer, she was too busy staring at his lips and thinking about feeding him. Never in her entire adult life had she considered there to be anything sensual about food but suddenly, here she was getting all hot and bothered at the thought of popping strawberries between Lucius Malfoy's lips. Perhaps she should have got Harry to take the curse check a little more seriously.

"Hermione?"

Her eyes flew to his.

"there is absolutely no point in looking at me like that, we're not leaving until we have eaten our meal."

"Sorry." She blushed and fiddled with the napkin on her lap. Now that the business of ordering food and apologising for the public spectacle she had made of both of them was done she felt awkward. It was strange, their silence had never felt uncomfortable before. She glanced back up at Lucius who was regarding her steadily apparently unaware of the atmosphere.

"I like your robes." The compliment startled her and she glanced down at herself, unconsciously smoothing the soft green fabric of her skirts.

"Thank you. Fleur helped me to chose them."

"Bill Weasley's veela wife?"

Hermione nodded. Lucius pursed his lips. "I've never understood how a Weasley managed to end up with a woman like _that."_

Hermione frowned. "Bill is very brave," she defended her friend, "and knowledgeable when it comes to curses."

"Is that what you look for in a man Miss Granger, someone brave and good at breaking curses?"

Hermione felt herself blushing again, she infinitely preferred it when Malfoy didn't talk. "No." She snapped, "I'm attracted to men who are insufferably arrogant and consider themselves far superior to everyone else on the planet, it's practically a curse in itself."

Lucius snorted. "I can imagine." He said mildly, "Look our food is coming."

Hermione breathed a sigh of relief as their food was placed in front of them. The menu had been almost incomprehensible, she hadn't known what to order but certainly hadn't wanted to ask Lucius her three questions so she'd taken a best guess approach. She liked most foods anyway. The scotch egg on its bed of salad looked innocuous enough at least. She nibbled on a few leaves not feeling in the slightest bit hungry. Lucius was neatly dissecting his own fish dish, his appetite clearly not affected by her presence. She resolutely cut into the Scotch egg only just stifling a cry of revulsion at its contents.

"Is something the matter Miss Granger?" Lucius dabbed his lips with his napkin and looked solicitously at her.

"No of course not." She forced herself to look down at what was on her plate. She had bisected the egg and nestled within the meat and breadcrumbs was a perfectly cooked egg which unfortunately appeared to contain a fetus. She raised her fork over the gruesome spectacle before lowering it again.

"Lucius?"

"Yes?"

"My egg appears to be fertilised!" She was very surprised to see Lucius suddenly cover the lower part of his face with his napkin as his shoulders shook helplessly. To her chagrin she realised she was witnessing him trying very hard not to laugh.

"Well my dear," he finally answered, striving rather hard to maintain his usual deadpan delivery. "I can assure you that I am most definitely not responsible for the state of your egg."

Hermione frowned at him.

"You ordered the balut egg did you not?" She nodded. "I am most terribly sorry Miss Granger but you assured me that you were entirely happy with the contents of the menu, I therefore assumed that you knew that balut eggs are a delicacy in which the fetus is allowed to mature for some weeks before the egg is harvested."

For a moment Hermione was transported back to their first meeting in Flourish and Blotts all those years ago, the spark of visceral rage which spread through her was so strong. Then Lucius gesticulated vaguely with one hand and with a murmured 'evanesco' the repugnant egg was gone.

"Why don't you eat some bread?" He suggested mildly, returning to his own starter.

Hermione ate the rest of her salad, and some bread and drank rather a lot of wine, all the while staring mutinously at Lucius. Finally he reached out and took her hand across the table.

"Come now Miss Granger, don't be such a sore loser."

She looked down at his long elegant fingers encircling her delicate wrist. His thumb rubbed over the erratic beat of her pulse. She felt her body respond to his with instant and overwhelming arousal. She looked around wildly, anywhere but at him. As her eyes swept over the assembled diners she was surprised at the number of rapidly averted gazes she encountered.

"Why is everybody looking at us?" She asked softly, not that their previous conversation would have carried. Lucius sat back, his hand still outstretched on the table but no longer touching hers. He glanced disdainfully around the room.

"Aside from the fact that we were on the front page of Daily Prophet yesterday?"

"Of course." She bit her lip.

Lucius drew in a long breath. "I haven't brought a woman here since Narcissa and I divorced. Most of the diners here are regulars, the presence of a a muggle-born is unusual, the presence of one with me..." He tailed off and gave a brief shrug. "I imagine it causes a stir amongst those who have nothing better to talk about."

Hermione was surprised he had mentioned his ex-wife. Admittedly they had not really indulged in conversation during their time together but she had somehow thought that Lucius' marriage was off limits, in the same way that they appeared to implicitly agree not to discuss the war, Lord Voldemort or pure blood supremacy. Now her usual overwhelming curiosity took hold.

"I saw you together after the battle." She started, fiddling with the handle of her knife. "You and she and Draco, you looked so relieved to still be alive, to be together." She hesitated again, glancing up at him. His face was a blank mask. "I was surprised when you divorced." She finished, looking away. He was silent for so long that she thought he was simply ignoring her statement. Finally though his long fingers tapped briefly on the table.

"After the war Narcissa wished to carry on as normal. She thought that we needed to consolidate our place in the new society, that if we moved quickly we would be able to maintain our level of influence, perhaps even increase it."

Hermione looked up in surprise. Her impression had been that the Malfoy's had only narrowly escaped Azkaban.

"Quite." Lucius responded, apparently reading her mind. "Narcissa's perception of our standing was not really accurate but I didn't hold that against her." He paused and took a drink from his goblet. "I could have done as she asked, it's amazing how much one is forgiven when one has sufficient funds at ones disposal."

"I'm sure." Hermione muttered.

A ghost of a smile flickered over Lucius' lips. "It may surprise you to hear that after the war I experienced something of an epiphany."

"You realised that muggle borns were equal in every way to pure blood wizards?"

"Don't be ridiculous!" He scoffed. "But I realised that I no longer had any desire to influence wizarding society. My beliefs had already cost me so much. We all suffered losses in the war Miss Granger, on both sides. So many of my friends were dead, I had almost lost my son." He stopped and took a deep breath, "We almost destroyed ourselves Miss Granger, what is the point in pure blood supremacy if the wizarding world is extinct?"

Hermione bit her lip.

"So I decided that politics were no longer for me, that I wassuited to decide the future of our society, that I would take care of my own affairs but otherwise would keep my nose out of politics. Narcissa was disappointed by this." He toyed with his glass. "Perhaps we would have drifted apart sooner if the threat of the dark lord had not kept us distracted from each other. Anyway, the simple fact is that I was no longer exciting enough for my wife. I believe she took up with a younger, more upwardly mobile specimen and I can't say I blame her."

Hermione was silent for a while absorbing what he had said. It was so easy to think of Lucius as heartless, an automaton who had once been her enemy and was now her lover, neither role inspired by anything other than self gratification.

"I'm sorry." She said after a moment. To her surprise he gave a bark of laughter.

"Why would you be sorry Miss Granger, none of it was your doing."

"I'm sorry for you." She qualified, it's hard loosing the people you love, sometimes knowing they are still alive makes it even harder. It was her turn to look away. "I obliviated my parents during the war." She gripped the table. "I thought once it was safe I would be able to restore their memories but I haven't been able to. So they're out there, alive and happy but completely unaware of the fact that they have a daughter." She looked very hard at a rather ugly painting over his left shoulder.

 _I absolutely will not cry in front of Lucius Malfoy._

To her surprise Lucius moved his hand to cover hers once more. This time his touch was not sexual.

"I'm sorry Hermione." She looked up at him, he truly was sorry she realised. And it suddenly hit her, the burden he bore, the guilt he clearly felt whether he would admit it or not. She thought it was difficult being a member of the Golden Trio, fawned over and lauded wherever she went. Lucius Malfoy carried the guilt of a failed dictatorship on his shoulders. She turned her hand to squeeze his fingers.

A nervous cough interrupted the moment and the waiter appeared next to them carrying two plates of food. Hermione was extremely relieved to see that her plate appeared relatively innocuous. Some sort of meat in a white sauce. The waiter topped up their wine glasses and they both began to eat hungrily the food a welcome distraction. Hermione still wasn't quite sure what she was eating but it was delicious.

She abruptly her fork in its progress to her lips when she realised that Lucius was smirking at her across the table.

"What?" She asked crisply.

"Nothing." He returned his eyes to his own plate. "I'm just pleased to see you enjoying the Tete de Veau it's something of an acquired taste."

Hermione looked down at her food which had seemed so appetising only moments ago. "Erm, what exactly is it?" She asked nervously.

Lucius' eyes glittered, "Why Miss Granger, you lead me to believe you were familiar with all the items on the menu."

Hermione sighed, "Point taken, I'm terribly uncultured. Now tell me what I'm eating!"

"I believe it is boiled calves brain."

"Oh." Hermione put down her fork as delicately as she could and reached for her water glass. She eyed Lucius across the table, he was now openly smirking at her. After a few deep breaths she continued eating her meal, shooting daggers at Lucius as she did so.

"I'm not surprised your wife left you." She muttered into her plate, "I'm only amazed it took her so long!" As soon as the words were out she regretted them but to her surprise Lucius let out a burst of laughter before leaning over and switching her plate with his.

"This will never happen again Miss Granger." He gesticulated at her half eaten meal before tucking into the odious dish with obvious relish.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N As before thank you so much for your reviews and follows. Somebody this morning commented on the fact that the tone of the story is quite different from the first chapter and I agree it is. I think it's because the first chapter was originally going to be a one shot. I woke up one morning with the idea firmly in my head including the liberal use of the word fuck. I thought it would wear a little thin if I kept going in that style for the entire story! Anyway here's a bit more from Lucius' viewpoint...**

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Lucius stretched luxuriantly against his Egyptian cotton sheets. Much as he enjoyed the girls company her thread count was not sufficiently high to make sharing her bed truly pleasurable. He gave a regretful groan as his morning hard on encountered nothing more welcoming than expensive bedding. That was a definite benefit to nights spent with Miss Granger. He slid a hand between his legs, fisting his erect member as he remembered how deliciously she had rubbed herself against him in the ally outside the restaurant before he had apparated them away. He had kissed her senseless against the door of her flat, rubbing her nipples through the soft fabric of her robes until she had arched against him whimpering wordlessly and trying to drag him through the door. He didn't quite know why he had denied them both. A game maybe. Or perhaps he really did wish to re-create the early part of her traditional courtship ritual. He wondered what date she _did_ fuck on. He wasn't sure he could leave her alone for another night.

He began to stroke himself in earnest picturing Hermione's pink lips wrapped around his cock, her curly hair streaming down her back and her naked breasts jutting forward as he fucked her mouth. He was on the brink of coming when he felt the wards of the manor flicker. They clearly recognised whoever had entered, only family members and Miss Granger were allowed to apparate directly into the hallway, although Miss Granger had never taken advantage of the privilege.

His heart leapt at the thought of seeing her. He jumped out of bed and had only just finished fastening a green silk robe around his still impressive erection when a nervous looking house elf popped into the room.

"What is it Pippy?"

"Master." The house elf wrung her hands as she squeaked at him. "It is the Mistress!"

He only had a moment to wonder over this when the door to his bedchamber was flung open and Narcissa strode through.

"Lucius, good morning, I'm surprised to still find you in bed on such a glorious morning." She dropped her cloak into the surprised arms of Pippy and strode to the window drawing the curtains fully open. Lucius blinked at the sudden incursion of bright sunlight.

His ex-wife looked as elegant as always he thought, rather aware of his own tousled hair and flagging arousal. Nonetheless he drew himself up to his full height.

"Narcissa, what a pleasure to see you, it's been so long." He gestured grandly at the small seating area in one corner of the room. Narcissa dropped into one of the armchairs she had personally commissioned from a designer in Italy.

"Some tea Pippy." She said without looking at the house elf. "Really Lucius, what time do you call this? You are rather letting yourself go." She ran a critical gaze over his chest which he realised was half visible between the gaping edges of his robe. He pulled it more tightly around himself and took the armchair opposite hers wondering how he could now feel so self conscious around a woman to whom he had been married for twenty-five years.

"I do apologise Narcissa. If I had known to expect you I would have made sure I was decent before your arrival. I dare say you are used to looking at much younger men these days, the sight of my aging body must indeed repulse you."

He caught the faint flush on her cheeks as his point hit home. "I understand that you are also used to looking at much younger _things_ these days." She said pleasantly.

Pippy blinked into the room with a tea tray and placed it carefully on the low table between the two of them. Narcissa leant forwards and poured them each a cup solicitously adding milk and sugar to Lucius' cup before picking up her own black brew. She gave a slight grimace as she sipped the steaming liquid.

"You've changed your blend I see. I must say Lucius this is far inferior to tea we used to drink."

"I'm terribly sorry." He replied through gritted teeth. "Now perhaps you might tell me to what I owe the very great pleasure of this visit."

He was surprised when Narcissa reached into her handbag and drew forth a two day old copy of the Daily Prophet. She dropped the newspaper on the table in front of him allowing him to watch himself repeatedly groping Hermione's arse. She really did have a lovely backside.

"Really Lucius, what were you thinking?"

He shrugged, "I don't exactly remember but I imagine I was probably thinking about taking her home and fucking her senseless!"

"Lucius!"

"What Narcissa? We were married for over twenty years, we have a child together, am I really supposed to pretend after all this time that I don't enjoy sex?"

"You could at least try not to enjoy sex with a mudblood who was in Draco's year of school." Lucius winced. It was strange that the word should sound so vulgar coming from the mouth of Narcissa. He no longer really thought of Hermione as a mudblood, she was just Hermione and he knew she didn't like the word or the unfortunate tattoo that adorned her left arm. As a courtesy to her he had embraced the term muggle born quite comprehensively and hearing Narcissa spit the expletive _mudblood_ at him was decidedly unsettling.

With a heroic display of self control he maintained his temper. "Hermione is twenty-five," he said mildly, "there is nothing shameful in our liaison."

Narcissa's face contorted with rage. "How on earth can you possibly say that. Don't you see the shame you have brought on our family?"

"Frankly no." Lucius refilled his tea cup. "No more than you when you took up with that Bulgarian wand maker. _You_ divorced _me_ Narcissa, you don't get a say in who I sleep with."

"Oh by all means sleep with her." Narcissa regained her own control, patting at her hair as if her anger might have blasted it out of place. "Take her home and _fuck her senseless_ every night." She pronounced the words delicately as if she wanted them off of her tongue as soon as possible. "I understand you have needs Lucius but for Merlin's sake why do you have to flaunt her in public. You took her to The White Swan, to our table!"

Lucius smirked at his ex-wife taking in her immaculately coiffured hair and precisely tailored robes. Despite the fact that she was actually a few months older than he she was still the epitomy of pureblood elegance and grace. She was beautiful, cultured and insanely jealous.

"What is it exactly that you are afraid of Narcissa? Are you concerned that I might marry the girl, sire another heir and disinherit Draco, or that I might sign over the manor to her in a fit of geriatric generosity?"

"No, of course not." She hesitated. "Are you thinking of marrying her?"

"None of your business." Lucius smirked again, he was rather enjoying this. It had hurt when Narcissa had left him and having her here, so obviously upset by his new relationship was immensely satisfying.

"Lucius." Narcissa tried a different tack, placing her tea cup back on the table and dropping to her knees between his. "I understand you must have been lonely over the last few years." She ran her hand up his inner thigh allowing her nails to scrape against the silky fabric as she leaned forward so her red lips were only inches from his own. "I can help you with that Lucius. Nobody knows how to satisfy you better than I."

For a moment he felt a flicker of interest, a memory of shared intimacy with this woman. His body recognised her and his cock twitched as her fingers inched towards it. Then he caught her hand very firmly with his own.

"Thank you Narcissa but I find I have more than enough _company_ to satisfy me at present." He removed her hand from his thigh. Narcissa pulled away and struggled to her feet, angrily picking up her handbag.

"You're a fool Lucius." She snarled at him. "Can't you see she's just using you? You'll be a laughing stock the ex-death eater, panting after the celebrity mudblood. As soon as she's got her feet under the table in the Minister's office she'll drop you and run straight back to her blood-traitor friends, just wait and see."

She swept outof the room and a few seconds later he felt the wards shift as she disapparated away.

Lucius carefully poured himself another cup of tea and took it back to bed. Reaching once more between the covers it quickly became apparent that the visit from his ex-wife had permanently quelled his erection. He sighed and sipped his tea instead considering Narcissa's words. Of course she was threatened by Hermione, it did not reflect well upon Narcissa that her shunned husband had taken up with a muggle born witch who was so much younger than either of them and he supposed that she might be worried about Draco's inheritance. He mulled over her final words. _She's just using you._

Was Miss Granger really using him? Of course it was election year. In less than a fortnight those who wanted to be considered for minister had to submit their applications then the public and wizengamot would vote on the matter. He knew that the general wizarding world wanted Hermione for minister, he also knew that there was strong opposition to this from the pureblood families. Was the clever little minx really trying to use his influence in order to win around the upper echelons of wizarding society? Lucius was a man who knew what it was to be used. Narcissa had used him as a social stepping stone, Bellatrix had used his house as a sanctuary from her own abusive husband and Voldemort…..well Voldemort had used him up and spat him out. If Hermione was indeed using him he was being taken advantage of in the most pleasurable way possible. There was something immensely arousing in imaging himself a slightly foolish older wizard being taken advantage of by the young, beautiful witch with lofty political ambitions. He reached beneath the sheets once again to discover that his cock was as intrigued by the idea as he was.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N Hi Everyone, thanks again for the reviews and follows - I'm addicted to looking at my phone at them moment, every time I see a new review it makes me so happy. This is just a short chapter today but I thought I'd share the Lumione fic I'm reading at the moment. It's called _Let Sleeping Dragons Lie_ by _MissJJD_ and it is fab - I love her portrayal of Draco. **

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Hermione gazed disconsolately out of her office window, fiddling absent mindedly with a string of paper clips on her desk. She had been at work for three hours and had achieved nothing more than the preparation and consumption of three cups of tea – such lack of productivity was unheard of. Her whole body throbbed with frustration. Over and over again she replayed the events of the previous evening.

Lucius had pinned her against the door of her flat with his usual ardour. Hermione had briefly feared that he was going to have her there and then despite the risk of discovery by her elderly neighbours whose delicate sensibilities may well not survive witnessing such a spectacle. He had kissed her hard, thrusting his tongue between her lips as his hands had slid up her ribcage, his thumbs teasing her nipples into aching points. She had writhed and moaned against him, all propriety and risk of killing her neighbours completely forgotten in her desperation to have him inside her. And then he had pulled away. His lips had been swollen from her kisses, his hair slightly dishevelled from her mindless tugging and his eyes had glittered with desire, but despite his obvious arousal he had chastely kissed her hand before apparating away leaving Hermione in a puddle slumped against her doorway.

Hermione had never previously considered herself to be a sexual creature. She had indulged in sex, mainly because it seemed to be what was expected. She had enjoyed the companionship and the feeling that she was pleasing Ron who she really had loved (before they realised that they were completely unsuited) but she had never indulged in sex for her own sake. The sensations had been pleasant at best. With Lucius she was overwhelmed. She wanted him constantly, walked around in a state of permanent semi-arousal and felt her insides clench a hundred times a day as she remembered what he had done to her the previous evening. Now it had been two days since Lucius had fucked her and her body was protesting vehemently. She seemed on the verge of spontaneous combustion.

She pressed her legs together firmly, trying to dispel images of Lucius holding her wrists firmly above her head as he pounded into her and instead concentrated on the papers strewn across her desk. There was an incident in Scotland which had the potential to become a disaster if it were not contained soon. A drunken wizard on his way home from the local hostelry had performed an unfortunate piece of accidental magic which had resulted in an entire pasture of cows being turned a lurid purple. Several muggles had already seen the beasts and Hermione had two field agents up there obliviating observers right left and centre. The discolouration of the cows was proving extremely difficult to reverse. Hermione was on the verge of authorising one of her best agents into the field with the instruction of glamouring all the cows back to their own colour until a permanent solution could be found. She was also toying with the idea of heading up there herself. It had been a long time since she had taken to the field but at least it would get her out of the office...

Her colleagues were still all regarding her carefully out of the corners of their eyes. Of course this was due at least in part to the fact that petitions for the ministerial candidacy were due to be submitted shortly. An enchanted list of candidates was displayed in the foyer of the ministry, it updated every hour and so far Hermione's name had not appeared. Try as she might to avoid the thought, her reticence to submit her petition centred around her relationship with Lucius. It could be no co-incidence that since their public appearances she had received letters from the heads of two prominent pure blood families pledging their allegiance should she run for minister. It sickened her that they could be so easily swayed into voting for a hated muggle born just because of her association with one of their own. Yet Hermione was nothing if not a pragmatist. There was so much she could do to help the oppressed of the wizarding world if she were to become minister, surely the means would justify the ends and if she were forced to take advantage of an existing relationship in order to be elected was that really such a heinous crime?

Several colleagues and acquaintances had visited her desk that morning and slipped completed petition forms in front of her

"Just in case you're feeling coy." Kingsley Shacklebolt had said as he pledged his own support and at least if she should decide to stand for minister she would spared the tedious form filling, Arthur Weasley's petition on her behalf was much more erudite and loquacious than hers would ever have been.

There was a brief knock and the door to her office opened. Hermione did not look up from the latest report on the exploits of the purple cows. She couldn't deal with any more well wishers right now.

"Just add it to the pile." She said tiredly, waving her hand towards the stack of petitions on her desk.

"If you think I'm going to vote for you as minister you're even crazier than I thought." A familiar spiteful drawl responded. Hermione jumped. Draco Malfoy was standing in front of her desk, arms crossed aggressively across his chest, his mouth set in a sneer of which Hermione had become rather fond recently. Her eyes ran over him. He was like a sort of low calorie version of Lucius. His hair was equally blond and soft but cut off just above his shoulders, his eyes the same grey but less piercing, his nose equally aquiline but less prominent, his lips...his lips were just the same.

 _Dear God!_ Hermione suppressed a quiver of arousal. If she was getting turned on looking at Draco Malfoy then she really did have it bad. She schooled her voice into polite disinterest.

"Mr Malfoy, to what do I owe this unexpected pleasure?"

"You bloody well know what Granger." Draco advanced towards her desk, Hermione forced herself not to flinch and clutched her wand under the table as Draco slammed something down in front of her. Hermione gave an audible sigh as she realised it was yet another copy of the bloody Daily Prophet.

"Ah." She made a small sound of comprehension.

"You're bloody well fucking my father!"

"Not right now!" It slipped out before she had a chance to censor her words.

"Don't make fun of me Granger." He placed his palms on her desk and leaned over her menacingly.

"I'm not!" She held up her own palms in a conciliatory fashion. "Mr Malfoy, Draco, my relationship with your father is really not any of your business."

"So you are in a relationship with him?"

Hermione blinked, was she? "Of sorts." She answered carefully.

Draco pulled away from her desk and began to pace back and forth across the rug his auror robes swirling around him.

"Listen Granger, I know you don't like me." Hermione made to interrupt but he raised a hand quickly to silence her. "It's fine, I'm not here to make friends, I know you don't like me and it's mainly my fault, although you were bloody annoying in school."

Hermione inclined her head in recognition of the fact.

Draco continued "But you have to understand, my father means a lot to me."

"I'm glad to hear it."

He cast her a look of such venom that she sat back at her desk with her lips firmly shut. Draco resumed his pacing."

"I know how he may appear to others but he's not the man he once was." He hesitated, looking out the window for a moment. "He's changed since the war, and when mother left...it almost destroyed him."

Hermione wished she had the capacity to raise a single eyebrow but since she didn't she tried to give what she hoped was a sceptical look."

"I know it may seem hard to believe." Draco looked directly at her, "but you could really hurt him Granger and I don't want that."

Hermione gave a sigh. "Are we really talking about the same person here? Lucius Malfoy? Big scary death eater, hobbies include intimidation and supporting violent political coups...I hardly think he's going to crumble just because things between he and I don't work out."

"Well that just goes to show you don't know everything Granger!" Draco looked increasingly uncomfortable picking at a bit of lint on his sleeve.

"I don't know why you had to take up with him anyway, if you were looking for a pureblood to help you with your election campaign I'd have been more than happy to play the part."

"What!" Hermione almost leapt off of her seat. Clearly Malfoys were like the proverbial muggle buses. "Draco you hate me!"

"Hated." He amended. "And that doesn't mean I would have minded shagging you."

"Thanks."

"You're welcome."

The silence stretched between them.

"Look Draco." Hermione fiddled with her paperclips again, "I don't really know what's going to happen between your father and me but if you're casting me as some sort of Lolita-esq temptress who seduced him in order to further my political ambitions you're crediting me with a lot more femme fatale qualities than I possess."

Draco looked a little puzzled by her muggle references but nodded slowly.

"Ok." He chewed his lip, "But you'll remember what I've said Granger?"

"Yes. I'm actually quite a nice person Draco."

"I know." He paused. "And you won't say anything about this to my father."

Hermione held up two fingers "scouts' honour!"

"What?"

"Oh, I mean I won't tell him."

"Ok."

Draco turned to leave, his hand was on the doorknob when Hermione spoke again.

"Um Draco?"

He turned "yes?"

"I was about to go and get some lunch in the canteen if you want to go down together?" The silence stretched between them for a long moment before he held the door open for her.

"Fair enough Granger but you're buying, I'm just a poor trainee after all!"

They made their way to the ministry canteen in comfortable silence and purchased two plates of unidentifiable brown food.

"What do you think it is?" Hermione asked as she cautiously lifted her fork.

Draco shrugged. "I'm not sure, some sort of stew maybe."

Hermione was about to respond when Ron plonked himself down next to Draco with a loud thump.

"Hey Draco!" He reached across the blond wizard for the ketchup which he poured liberally over his own plateful of brown slop. "Alright Mione!" He grinned over at her, "You do know that's the wrong Malfoy right? You can't just shag them interchangeably!"

Hermione tensed expecting Draco to leap at Ron, wand drawn. Instead to her surprise he simply rolled his eyes. The thump of another tray landing on the table across from her heralded Harry's arrival.

"Hermione, Draco." He grinned at them, "It's like a family picnic."

"Fuck off." Hermione muttered, her cheeks flaming.

Draco turned to her with a sigh. "So this is what I've had to put up with for the last forty-eight hours Granger. At least if _we_ were shagging I'd be getting something out of it!"

"In your dreams Draco." Harry continued, grinning "As if Hermione Granger would every shag a Malfoy..." He turned to Hermione with mock surprise. "...Oh wait, she would, maybe you're in with a chance after all!"

Ron gave a low whistle. "He'd have to have a death wish, imagine what Lucius Malfoy would do if you nicked his bird?" The two boys looked at each other and gave exaggerated shudders whilst Hermione and Draco shovelled the brown slop into their mouths, identical pained grimaces on their faces.


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N Thanks again to everybody who has reviewed, followed and favourited. Without further ado here's the next chapter - I thought it would be nice to Lucius and Hermione in the same room again!**

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Hermione was cooking dinner and pretending not to watch the clock when Lucius entered her flat that evening. Over the past few months she had grown to take him for granted. He would stroll through the door, fuck her wordlessly then wait for her to feed him. Somehow over the last few days things had changed and she gazed nervously at him, wondering what he planned to do.

Despite Draco's assertions that his father was a sensitive and tortured soul Hermione saw nothing in Lucius' countenance to confirm these claims. He strolled across the floor, placing a bottle of wine on the kitchen table as he walked past. Then he pulled her body against his own and proceeded to kiss her thoroughly leaving her in absolutely no doubt as to his intentions, or his firm belief that she reciprocated his desire.

"So how long do you make your potential lovers wait before they get to see your bedroom?" He asked against her lips.

Hermione tried to force her lust fogged brain into coherent thought.

"Erm, I'm not sure, it's not a hard and fast rule. There haven't exactly been a lot of test subjects."

"Oh?" She was glad that he was now biting gently on the line of her jaw or he would have seen her blushing. His tongue flickered against the sensitive skin of her earlobe."

"How many test subjects exactly?"

Hermione swallowed. "Well, just the one really."

He paused for a second, his lips against her neck, then he bit very gently there, his tongue tasting her.

"Just one before me?"

"Yes!" She whispered not sure if she was answering his question or encouraging the way his lips were moving from her neck to her collarbone.

"Why Miss Granger," a large warm hand had insinuated its way beneath her blouse and was sliding across the sensitive skin of abdomen towards her bra. "How very chaste you are."

"Hardly!" Hermione gasped as his hand closed over her breast, stroking the nipple through the lace of her bra. She slid her hand down his body to splay across his erect cock and he gave his own gratifying groan of arousal.

"So do you think it's possible," He had unbuttoned her blouse and pulled down the cup of her bra so he could flick his tongue across her pebbled nipple. "That following a successful first date, during which your paramour behaved with complete propriety, even going out of his way to rescue you from a culinary disaster entirely of your own making, you might see fit..." He slid a hand under her skirt to rest on the curve of her buttock, his lips left her breast to return to hers "...to allow him to fuck you?"

"Definitely."

Hermione had barely uttered the words before he spun her around and pressed her against the granite work top. One hand returned to its place on her buttock whilst the other dealt with his trouser placket. Two of his long fingers slipped beneath her knickers and into the wet heat of her sex. She moaned loudly, pressing her arse back against his cock which was wedged delightfully between her buttocks.

"That is very fortunate Miss Granger." He bent forward, forcing her body down onto the cool granite, his lips at her ear once more. "Because I'm not sure how much longer I could resist you." His fingers withdrew and she felt him ripping her knickers as he removed them. Then he slammed into her and she screamed with pleasure as he filled her to the hilt.

She only just prevented herself form coming, pressing her head against the cool worktop and biting down hard on her lip. Lucius caught hold of her wrists and pinned them to the worktop spreading her across the counter as he hammered into her. Her breasts were crushed under his weight, her middle was pressed against the worktop with every thrust, the entire experience was only just not painful and within seconds she found herself on the brink of orgasm once more.

"Lucius." She begged incoherently, realising somewhere in the dim vaults of her mind that she had never called him that during sex before. "Oh please don't stop, please, please." He didn't and she quickly tumbled over the edge screaming his name as she came, her body pulsing around his. He began to fuck her even harder, pounding her body against the worktop until he thickened even more inside her and Hermione gave a startled yelp as he hit bottom and emptied himself up against her cervix his teeth biting hard into the soft nape of her neck as he did so.

They remained motionless for several minutes, Lucius still buried inside her. Until Hermione realised that only just not painful had now become painful, her back ached and her middle was bruised. As soon as she tried to stand Lucius released his hold on her wrists and pulled out of her, tucking himself away and buttoning his fly. Hermione straightened her clothes and looked in disappointment at her torn knickers on the floor.

"Lucius I do wish you would stop ripping my underwear off, these were my favourites."

His eyes followed hers. "I will buy you the entire lingerie department of Madame Malkins." He offered grandiosely.

Hermione sighed. "I don't want you to buy me an entire shop, I just want you to stop ripping the underwear I do have."

Lucius gave a smug smile and stooped to retrieve her knickers which he placed in his pocket.

"What are you doing?" Hermione squeaked, "Do you have some sort of perverse trophy room in which the torn underwear of your sexual conquests is displayed?"

Lucius smirked, "Something like that."

Hermione gave a final sigh and turned back to the hob where a pan of risotto patiently waited under a stasis charm. She removed the charm and began to stir. She felt a little self conscious. Lucius usually took a seat at the table while she cooked, sometimes he watched but mainly he read. Now he was leaning against the work top watching intently.

"You cook the muggle way." He finally observed.

"You've watched me cook several times before and you've only just noticed?"

He shrugged, "I wasn't really paying attention before. Why don't you use magic?"

Hermione glanced at him as she added more stock to the pan. "I'm not very good at domestic spells." She admitted. "My parents couldn't teach me obviously and it just seems easier to do things the way I always have. It's a problem for many muggle born witches and wizards." Her eyes flicked between his and the risotto. "It's one of the reasons I want to introduce domestic science classes at Hogwarts."

Lucius snorted, "There really are some topics that will remain taboo between us." He said with mock seriousness. Hermione smiled and continued to stir.

After a few minutes Lucius cleared his throat. "May I be of assistance to you?"

Hermione looked sharply at him before reaching up to place a hand on his forehead. "Do you have a temperature?"

He snatched the hand away and bit gently on the bit of flesh between her thumb and first finger. "Perhaps you have bewitched me!"

"Perhaps." She looked up into his grey eyes, regarding her so steadily, and felt a little breathless. She pulled away.

"You can set the table."

He set to with remarkable ease, he had obviously watched her around the kitchen enough to know where things were. He easily found plates, cutlery and wine glasses. He used his wand to open the bottle of wine to air. Then he looked around with a furrowed brow. Hermione observed him sidelong wondering what he was searching for. Finally he removed a teaspoon from her cutlery drawer and transfigured it into a rather magnificent candelabra complete with candles which he lit with his wand. He stood back appearing very pleased with himself.

"Thank you." Hermione leaned in to kiss him as she carried their plates to the table. They ate in what she hoped was comfortable silence. She quietly admired the transfigured candelabra, it was quite magnificent although she found the way the candles appeared out of the open mouths of coiled snakes slightly unsettling. About halfway through their meal Lucius put down his fork and fixed her with his piercing gaze.

"Have you submitted your petition to the ministerial election yet?"

 _Not you too_ Hermione thought irritably, must everyone nag her about this?

"Not yet." She answered shortly hoping that Lucius might be put off by her curt tone. She had clearly forgotten to whom she was speaking.

"But you do wish to be elected, you have your ten year plan."

"How do you know about my ten year plan?" Hermione was shocked her plan was top secret, not even Harry and Ron knew of its existence.

"You talk in your sleep."

"Oh." How absolutely dreadful. Nobody had ever mentioned the vice to her before, what other dark secrets had she revealed? Not that she really had any other secrets. "Have I said anything else interesting?"

Lucius paused, Hermione chewed her lip. "Not really, last week you seemed rather preoccupied with purple cows."

She let out a breath she didn't know she had been holding. The thought of Lucius Malfoy being party to her innermost thoughts was a little unsettling.

"We were discussing the election." Lucius took a sip of his wine and looked directly at her once more.

"You were discussing the election, I was avoiding the topic."

He smirked. "You do seem very unwilling to talk about the cumulative part of your ten year plan. Perhaps Narcissa was correct."

"Correct in what?" Hermione felt a stab of jealousy at Narcissa's name.

"She informed me that you are merely using me to improve your electoral prospects."

He was watching her carefully Hermione noted. Whilst his movements were casual his discerning grey eyes were fixed on her own.

"Narcissa seems to have a great deal of insight into my psyche considering we haven't met since her sister was torturing me on your drawing room floor."

"Now you're avoiding the question."

"I wasn't aware there was a question, when did you see Narcissa anyway?"

Lucius fastidiously dabbed his lips. "This morning, we took tea in my bedroom."

Hermione was surprised by the visceral surge of rage which shot through her, clearly she did a poor job of hiding her emotions as Lucius' smirk only grew broader.

"Do you make a habit of entertaining women in your bedroom Mr Malfoy?"

"My ex-wife is hardly 'women' Miss Granger."

"Now _you're_ avoiding the question."

"I wasn't aware there was a question."

"Urgh!" Hermione picked up the plates and flounced over to the sink, dumping them with a clatter and starting to run hot water over them.

After a few moments Lucius appeared behind her, his hands at her waist. "Narcissa and I are no longer intimate." He said into her hair. Hermione gave a small humph of approval and liberally poured Fairy liquid into the water before donning a pair of yellow rubber gloves.

"What on earth are you doing?" She glanced sideways at Lucius who was staring at her in fascination.

"I'm washing up."

"By hand?"

"Yes, it makes me feel better when I'm...upset."

He had moved away to lean against the worktop once more.

"And I have upset you?"

"Yes, no, not really, I don't know."

"Ah, well that clears things up then." He cautiously picked up a dish towel. "I am supposed to dry the items after you wash them?"

She nodded briefly and watched from the corner of her eye as he painstakingly dried the plates."

"A drying charm would be much faster." He pointed out.

"But not nearly so therapeutic."

He didn't respond and they worked silently for several minutes before Hermione gripped the sink with her gloved hands and spoke down into the sudsy water.

"I received two letters of support from pureblood families today."

Lucius continued to polish a fork before holding it up to the light. "I believe this requires further cleansing." He dropped it back into the water. "Which families wrote to you?"

Hermione thought for a moment. "The Shafiqs and the Moodys."

Lucius pursed his lips, "you may well have garnered their support without my influence."

"Possibly." Hermione held onto the sink again. "Lucius, I didn't seduce you in order to try and influence the election."

"I know." His answer was immediate and Hermione breathed another sigh of relief.

"How do you know?"

He smiled as he folded the tea towel and placed it on the worktop. "Because _I_ seduced _you."_ He said with the supreme arrogance of a Malfoy.

They returned to the table and Lucius poured them both another glass of wine. He didn't speak and Hermione had the distinct feeling that he was giving her just enough rope to hang herself.

"I don't know what to do." She said quietly after several minutes of contemplation.

"Regarding what?"

"The election." She twisted her glass watching the way the light caught the crystal. "Before I would have submitted my petition and campaigned as hard as I could. I know I have the support of the public but I don't think it would have been sufficient. I would have accepted the loss and moved on."

"So what has changed?"

"You know what has changed." She snapped bitterly. "Bloody Narcissa has hit the nail on the head. If I continue my..." She searched for a word, avoiding his eyes "...association with you then I'm may well garner enough support to win the election but then I feel like a heel for using you and I'll have given in."

"Given in to what?"

"To pureblood supremacy, to the whole system I want to overturn in the first place."

Lucius regarded her steadily for a long moment. "I can offer no comfort regarding your last point Miss Granger, all I will say is that if you wish to combat pureblood supremacy I fear you will have to play the game in order to obtain enough power to so from the inside. Regarding your first point did it not occur to you that I might not object to being used?"

Hermione frowned at him. "What do you mean?"

"I mean that it would amuse me greatly to allow you to use my influence to win the election."

"But I thought you weren't interested in politics any longer."

"I'm not Miss Granger, but I am interested, very interested, in you!"

Hermione blushed and Lucius rolled his eyes. "Come now Hermione are you really so shocked to hear that I desire you?"

Hermione shook her head, still blushing, her mind in turmoil. Lucius suddenly shot out a hand and pinned her left arm to the table. Hermione's eyes flew to his as he pulled up the sleeve of her blouse to reveal her forearm. With a wave of his free hand he summoned his wand and pressed the tip against her skin. His eyes met hers. "Finite Incantatem." He said very softly.

The glamour covering Hermione's tattoo shimmered and faded leaving the word 'mudblood' written in Bella's rather childish handwriting. The letters were as red and angry as they had been all those years ago. Lucius looked steadily at her, for once all trace of mocking gone from his eyes.

"I owe you." You said simply.

Hermione pulled her hand away and quickly covered the tattoo, looking anywhere but back at Lucius.

"I don't hold you responsible for what happened to me in your home Lucius. And I would never use your guilt to force you into helping me to further my political career." Lucius nodded his head and rolled his wand thoughtfully on the table seemingly deep in thought. Finally he spoke.

"Why don't you look at it this way Miss Granger? Consider me as a public relations expert you have employed to make your campaign a success. You can even pay me if it makes you feel better."

Hermione snorted. "Pay you with what? You're the richest man I know!"

Lucius' smirk had returned. "I'm not at all interested in money Miss Granger." His eyes roved up and down her body and she felt the tell-tale blush returning.

"But I was going to give you that already!" She blurted before clapping a hand over her mouth and blushing even more furiously.

Lucius laughed, the sound so warm and melodic that it sent shivers up and down Hermione's spine. "You are a terrible negotiator Miss Granger." His face grew serious. "Do you accept my terms?"

"You're offering to help me win the election in exchange for sexual favours which I was quite willing to bestow anyway?"

"I believe that is a fair summery of what I'm offering."

Hermione frowned. This all felt wrong, but she wanted to keep Lucius, she wanted to run for minister and, if she were honest with herself, she did want his help, and selling her body to him in order to achieve it didn't sicken her nearly as much as she was sure it ought to an emancipated woman such as herself. She nodded her head slowly.

"Yes I accept your terms."

"Excellent." Lucius stood, and plucked her bodily out of her chair and into his arms. "Now Miss Granger I'm very tired of talking, I think it's time for you to make an advance payment for my services."

He strode through her small flat and threw her down on the bed. Hermione squeaked as the air rushed out of her. Seconds later Lucius was covering her body with his own, his fingers sliding upwards to confirm that she had not had time to replace her underwear.

Much, much later his voice brought Hermione back from the brink of sleep.

"Miss Granger."

"Hmmm?"

"Would you be willing to accept a gift from me?"

Hermione yawned and snuggled closer, laying her head on his warm chest. "I thought you were already buying me an entire shops worth of lingerie?"

"Of course, but how would you feel about some new sheets?"


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N Thank you so much to everyone who has reviewed. Especially Aliduck who has been reading and reviewing as I've been struggling with this last chapter - your reviews really spurred me on to keep writing. I hope this chapter is OK, I found it tricky to write. We're building up to the climax now, not many chapters to go I don't think!**

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Lucius Malfoy had completely consumed her. If Hermione had thought him demanding as a lover, his behaviour over the last three months had absolutely nothing on his actions now she had apparently given him carte blanche to run her life. He was everywhere. His belongings strewn over her small flat (for a man of such fastidious grooming he was surprisingly untidy), his toiletries in her bathroom, even his scent lingered on her sheets, in her home and on her person, a constant subtle reminder of his presence. His house elves had taken over the upkeep of her flat and Hermione even had the house elf equivalent of a ladies maid. She was almost certain that Bee was nesting somewhere in the flat although she had not yet ascertained where.

She was exhausted. Since she had submitted her ministerial petition her life had overnight become a media circus. The intense scrutiny to which she would have been subjected anyway only increased by her relationship with Lucius. She glanced over at the man himself. He was seated at her kitchen table, dressed as always in his formal wizarding robes, black, embroidered with silver at the shoulders. His immaculate blond hair hung down to the table as he bent industriously over her diary, rather incongruously tapping a muggle biro against his full lower lip.

As if feeling her eyes on him he looked up.

"You're supposed to be working on your speech." He pointed out.

Hermione sighed and bent back over the papers strewn around her on the sofa. "I'm nearly finished, I was just thinking."

He smirked a little, confident in the believe that thinking whilst looking in his direction could only mean one thing. Hermione resisted the urge to roll her eyes. It was pointless anyway Lucius had turned back to the diary.

"Can you fit in a lunch with the Octavius Black tomorrow?"

Hermione shook her head although the gesture was pointless. "No, I have to go up to Scotland and do something about these purple cows now, they're producing coloured milk now, the situation is critical."

"Hmm." Lucius appeared to have absolutely no interest in the incipient diary crises. "Actually that could work." He flipped back and forth between the pages. "Once you've obliviated everyone in Inverness you could apparate in to Hogwarts in time to attend the debating society evening, they invited all the candidates, Minerva will be delighted if you can come."

"Yes alright." Hermione gave a quiet sigh, it would be pleasant to spend an evening at Hogwarts even if it was work.

"Shall I accompany you?"

"No, your presence will only aggravate Minerva."

"Good point." Lucius scribbled something in the diary, Hermione noticed fondly that he had s smudge of blue ink on his lip.

It had quickly become apparent at which social events Lucius' presence was not beneficial to Hermione's political prospects. As a rule of thumb anything involving ex members of the Order of the Phoenix was best attended without the former death eater. The rest of the time Lucius was a permanent fixture on Hermione's arm. They had attended society balls, charity galas, exhibition openings, concerts and private dinners together. Little wonder Hermione was fatigued. When she wasn't with Lucius she still had the rigours of her own demanding job to contend with along with trying to maintain her own social life.

Lucius had attempted to exploit her relationship with Harry for all it was worth despite Hermione's protestations. She had absolutely refused to attend any events with Harry and had been furious when, on leaving the local café after the golden trios's weekly Saturday breakfast, they had been set upon by photographers. Hermione now refused to tell Lucius when and where she was meeting Harry and Ron although, judging from the number of times they had been ambushed by the press Hermione suspected he may actually have some sort of tracking charm on her.

In his defence Harry didn't seem to mind. Whilst the press had hounded him during their school days, during this Post–Voldemort era he could do no wrong and he seemed almost as keen as Lucius to assist Hermione in being elected as minister for magic, although he fortunately did not expect sexual favours in return. Nonetheless Hermione was uncomfortable enough with exploiting Lucius she couldn't bear to use Harry as well.

Whilst Lucius might behave like a perfect gentleman in public, the arse groping incident of the ministry ball had not been repeated and he restricted physical contact to chaste kissing of her cheek, in private he seemed set upon extracting payment for his admittedly expert services. He was, if anything, even more sexually demanding and domineering than he had been previously. If Hermione were honest with herself she was profoundly grateful for this. Whilst she was riding high in the opinion polls, her political career going from strength to strength she found negotiating the perilous subtleties of pureblood society exhausting. She was constantly on edge, worried that she might say the wrong thing, walking the fine line between appeasing the upper echelons of wizarding society without sacrificing the principles upon which her entire campaign was based. When she and Lucius were alone none of this mattered. He wanted her and what he wanted he took in the most pleasantly depraved way possible. Very little was left to Hermione in terms of decision making.

The night of the ball at the Nott's house had been a prime example. Lucius had arrived to escort her bearing a large box which he had liberated from the Malfoy vaults. It contained several strands of pearls with matching drop earrings and bracelets. Lucius had draped the necklaces liberally over Hermione's slender neck arranging them so they hung over the front of her black, strapless gown, glowing against her creamy skin in an ostentatious display of wealth. She had felt rather uncomfortable in the simple surroundings of her flat but on entering the Nott ballroom she had been grateful for Lucius' foresight. More is more appeared to be attitude of the witches present when it came to jewellery. Lucius had of course been the perfect gentleman. He had been polite and attentive, affectionate but not lecherous and had taken her home just as the energy of the room appeared to dip.

He had apparated them directly into Hermione's bedroom where he had proceeded to rip the pearls from her neck, spilling the shining beads all over her duvet where they had pressed into her skin as he had fucked her. Then he had taken the single intact strand and done something so obscene with it that Hermione could still not remember what had transpired without blushing. The following morning he had looked slightly puzzled as he had plucked several pearls out of his hair, then he had sleepily 'accioed' the remains of the family jewels and sent them off to be repaired.

Hermione glanced at her watch, quickly gathering up the notes for her speech.

"I have to go."

Lucius, flicked the pages of her diary, "Where, you don't have an appointment."

"That's because I purposefully didn't tell you I was going out!" She pressed a kiss against his cheek, skipping out the way of his instantly roving hands.

He pouted. "When will you be back?"

"A couple of hours maybe, if it goes Ok, will you still be here?"

"I might go home for a while and ascertain whether or not Malfoy Manor is still standing. Shall I come back for dinner?" For once they did not have a social engagement that evening.

Hermione nodded. "Yes, I'll cook something nice." Braving his wandering hands a final time she kissed him again before stepping into the fireplace, whispering her destination.

She had deliberately not told Lucius of her lunch date with Ginny. For one thing she wouldn't have put it past him to have photographers stationed outside Grimmauld Place waiting to catch her and a very pregnant Mrs Potter embracing on the doorstep. For another she hadn't seen Ginny since her relationship with Lucius had become public knowledge, she was terrified of her friend's response to the fact that she was sleeping with the man who had put Tom Riddle's diary in her cauldron all those years ago. She knew she had been taking the cowardly option but it was only a fierce telling off from Harry earlier that week that had convinced her to owl Ginny and set up the lunch date.

Hermione tumbled out of the fireplace into the sitting room of the 12 Grimmauld Place. The house had been drastically changed since it had served as headquarters for the Order. It was now a pleasant home, the portrait of Mrs Black long banished to the attic. Hermione had barely had time to brush the soot from her clothing when Ginny was upon her.

"Mione, you came." A protuberant belly pressed against her as Ginny gave her an awkward embrace which she ended with a punch to Hermione's arm. "I can't believe you didn't tell me you were doing Malfoy. I had to hear it from Ron, how could you Mione?"

Hermione gazed into her friend's hurt brown eyes, remorse twisting inside her. "I'm so sorry Ginny, I never meant to hurt you, it just kind of happened."

"Hang on now!" Ginny held up a hand before lowering herself onto a nearby sofa with a sigh of relief. "I'm not upset that you're sleeping with him, I'm upset you didn't tell me!"

"Oh!" Hermione's exclamation came out in a relieved whoosh. She took a seat next to Ginny. "I wanted to tell you honestly I did. You more than anyone, but I was just so worried about what you would say."

"Why?" Ginny looked genuinely puzzled.

Hermione frowned, maybe pregnancy hormones had addled Ginny's brain. "Well you know, you and Lucius have some history. Tom Riddle's diary, The Chamber of Secrets..."

"Oh that!" Ginny waved a hand airily. "I got over all that a long time ago. Here, help me up." Hermione offered her a hand and bodily hoisted the pregnant witch off of the sofa.

"Look." Ginny directed her friend's attention to a bookcase against the back wall of the room. The bottom shelf was entirely taken up by muggle self help books. Hermione looked at Ginny in surprise.

"These are yours?"

Ginny snorted. "Of course not. They're Harry's. After the war ended we realised he had a lot of issues, abandonment, survivors guilt, post traumatic stress that sort of thing."

Hermione nodded, it made sense, she didn't think any of the Golden Trio had emerged unscathed from the aftermath of war but poor Harry hadn't been in great psychological shape before he had to sacrifice himself in order to save the world.

"Wizards don't have psychologists or psychiatrists like muggles do." Ginny was explaining. "Harry tried to go for counselling but the psychologist thought he was crazy, he nearly ended up in a high security facility. I had to do a lot of obliviating to get him out."

"Please don't tell me." Hermione weakly held up a hand, as head of muggle relations this was exactly the sort of thing she did not want to know about.

"Oh yeah sorry." Ginny smiled. "Anyway Harry took matters into his own hands and read all these books, you must have noticed how much he's changed?" She smiled proudly.

Hermione nodded slowly. "I have noticed, I guess I thought he was just growing up but you're right he's changed massively." She looked back at the bookshelf. "But what does this have to do with you and Lucius?"

Ginny bent down to the shelves and pulled out a book, she held it out to Hermione. "I started reading some of them too, mainly to support Harry. But I suppose some of it sunk it. This one in particular."

Hermione traced the cover. "The book of forgiving and forgiveness." Ginny nodded.

"You should borrow it Mione, it's as much about learning to forgive yourself as it is forgiving others."

"And this is why you're OK with me and Lucius, because you've forgiven him?"

Ginny nodded. "And because he's super hot and I want to know every single detail. Does he chain you up in his sex dungeon?"

Hermione stared at her friend in amazement before bursting into laughter. "Not yet." She said coyly.

* * *

When Lucius arrived back at Hermione's flat it was to find her bent over the kitchen worktop her horrific / delightful muggle jeans moulded across her magnificent arse. He paused in the doorway to admire the sight. He thought at first she was cooking but he quickly realised that the pan on the stove was neglected and, true to type, Miss Granger was engrossed in a book.

He made his way stealthily towards her and slid a large hand over her backside. She gave a shriek of horror straightening up suddenly, almost dropping the book before she moved it behind her back.

"Lucius you scared me." Her voice sounded unnaturally high pitched and she pressed herself against him in a manner he thought more intended to distract than anything else.

"That was not my intention." He pressed his lips against hers gently caressing her upper arms until she relaxed into him, so trusting. It was the work of seconds to slide his arm down hers and grab the book from her unsuspecting fingers. He held it out of her reach as she jumped up and down like an angry terrier trying to retrieve the battered paperback. What on earth was it? Some book on dark magic perhaps? His eyes skimmed the title. _Forgiving and Forgiveness._

"What on earth is this?" He asked, dropping the book on to the worktop and wondering why she had concealed it from him.

"It's nothing." She was blushing, her curly hair a bedraggled halo around her worried face. "It's just a silly book that Ginny lent me, not your sort of thing at all."

His stomach turned over at the girls name. "You have been to see Mrs Potter?"

Hermione nodded, biting her lip.

"She is well I hope."

"Very well, and very pregnant."

"I am happy for her."

"Are you?" he looked sharply down at the little witches face. She was regarding him carefully her expressive brown eyes fixed on his.

He nodded slowly, "Yes." Then he strode to the small cupboard where she kept a very meagre supply of drinks and poured himself a large brandy. "I have done a lot of things in my life of which I am not proud Hermione." She blinked at his rare use of her first name. "My behaviour towards Miss Weasley is one of the things I most regret. I hope our association has not affected your friendship with her."

Hermione's eyes softened. "I was afraid it would. I've been avoiding her since the Ministry ball but it turns out Ginny is a much better adjusted person than I gave her credit for." She gave him a lopsided smile. "She says she forgives you."

The Lucius of old would have laughed at the statement. Who cared whether or not some blood traitor chit forgave him? _I do._ He thought to himself. _I care if she forgives me and I want Hermione to forgive me too._ He knocked back his drink in a single swallow.

"I'm glad to hear it he said roughly." Turning away so she couldn't see the emotion that he feared clouded his features. He was surprised when her soft body pressed against his from behind, her touch comforting rather than sexual.

"Ginny read the book." She said softly, her cheek pressed against his back, "That's what helped her to forgive you, but it's not just about forgiving other people, it's about forgiving yourself too." She patted him gently on the stomach.

"I'm going to have a quick shower." Pressing a kiss to his shoulder she was gone leaving him standing in her small kitchen next to a pot of ruined pasta sauce and a battered paperback. Almost against his will his fingers reached out to touch the book, a book that had come to him from Ginerva Weasley, what an odd turn of events.


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N I've had loads of lovely reviews over the last 24 hours, thank you again everyone who has taken time to write something. I feel I need to apologise for this chapter. It's very short and mainly smut. I know I was apologising a while back because there wasn't any sex, now I'm worried this is just gratuitous but I've had this scene in my head right from the start and I just couldn't leave it out. I promise it does move the plot forward...a little bit anyway. Normal service tomorrow with a longer chapter coming up again. The rate this is writing itself I reckon we'll be done by the end of the week.**

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Lucius gritted his teeth as the muggle tailors' hand ran up the length of his inner thigh. Miss Granger would pay dearly for this. His eyes were automatically drawn to her where she sat primly on a stool in the corner of the fitting room. The tailor had asked her to wait outside but she had airily waved her hand.  
"I think I'll stay, thank you." Neither the tailor nor Lucius had argued with her. Now she sat in her little muggle skirt suit, her long slim legs crossed, one delicate ankle rotating gently as she watched him being manhandled. Lucius was a gentleman of the world. There were occasional, very specific circumstances under which he did not object to the intimate touch of another man. These circumstances and _this_ man did not meet his criteria. He winced as the little man encircled him in his arms, apparently measuring his waist size. He shot Miss Granger a malevolent gaze. She only smiled at him. Lucius knew exactly what this was, it was revenge…..

Miss Granger's wardrobe had been hopelessly unsuited for a political campaign. From what he knew of muggle fashion she wasn't any better dressed in what had once been her own world than she was in his. Lucius was frankly surprised that she had got as far as she had in her baggy robes and muggle jeans. He supposed being instrumental in the death of the Dark Lord must have bought her a little more social currency than he would have expected.

She had eventually agreed to accompany him to a seamstress who had dressed both his mother and his wife. They had spent several hours in the emporium choosing dresses. Well Lucius had done most of the choosing. Hermione had made disgusted noises about oppression of house elves (they did most of the sewing), use of unsustainable materials (only a few of the dresses were trimmed with dragon scales) and the sheer waste of purchasing a gown for thousands of galleons which would only be worn once (not strictly her business since he was the one doing the purchasing). Lucius had tuned her out rather quickly and enjoyed dressing her as one might a life-size but slightly petulant doll.

He had of course accompanied her into the fitting room where she had been quickly stripped to her knickers. The assistant had suggested he wait outside but who was she to argue when Lucius Malfoy waved her away and insisted that he was quite happy to observe? He had done so with pleasure as Hermione's slim body had been surrounded by enchanted measuring tapes recording every dimension in intimate detail. She had blushed crimson as she was instructed to manoeuvre her limbs into a number of revealing poses (to allow the tapes access of course). Lucius had been most delighted to see that the blush extended all the way down onto the upper slopes of her breasts.

As soon as the enchanted tapes had finished in their work he had dismissed the shop assistant. She had dressed enough Malfoy women to know that the accompanying gentleman usually held the purse strings and she had quickly retreated insisting that they take their time. Lucius had advanced on a still blushing Hermione and, unbuttoning his fly had finally realised his recurring fantasy of having her suck his cock, on her knees dressed, in only the briefest of knickers. Perhaps he could have been a little less rough. It had not been polite to hold the back of her head quite so aggressively as he had forced himself into her throat but, despite her protestations afterwards, she had been willing enough as she'd greedily taken him deep, one hand sliding into her knickers to pleasure herself at the same time. All in all it had been a most pleasant interlude although she insisted prudishly that it was not an appropriate sort of thing for the future minister for magic to be doing. Lucius felt it was only inappropriate if they were caught.

He stifled his recollections of Hermione's trip to the seamstress, he was rather exposed stripped down to his boxers in front of the muggle tailor. He did not think that sporting an erection in a muggle tailoring establishment would be any more appropriate than it would in a wizarding one. Muggle measuring seemed to involve a lot more _touching_ though _._ He glanced over at Hermione again. She was still watching with an amused little smile on her face, she recrossed her legs and Lucius gave an audible groan as her skirt raked up a little further to reveal the unmistakable sliver of lace that heralded a stocking top.  
"Is everything all right Sir?" The tailor asked, glancing nervously up at Lucius's curled lip.  
"Yes quite all right, thank you." He would not look at her, he absolutely would not look. His eyes flicked across the room. She was staring at the curtain behind him and absent mindedly running her fingers over the lace at the top of her thigh.

Finally the tailor was finished. He stepped away, making a note of his last measurement.  
"Right Mr Malfoy, I'll leave you to get dressed again." He turned to leave and Lucius was truly shocked to see Hermione draw her wand.  
"Confundus." She hissed. The tailor shuddered, and then quickly left the cubicle, pulling the curtains firmly behind him. Lucius paused in the act of picking up his trousers to regard Miss Granger. What was she up to?

She calmly crossed the room to stand in front of him, wand still held loosely in her hand.  
"Now Mr Malfoy, I believe you have certain expectations in these sorts of situations." She gave him a stern look. "On your knees." Never taking his eyes from hers he dropped to his knees. Very, very slowly she pulled her skirt over her narrow hips. His heart began to pound erratically, he was not the sort of man to willingly bow before anyone but he was beginning to think that on this one occasion it may well be worth bending his rules a little. Her skirt rose to reveal her slim thighs encased in the silky material of her stockings, a muggle fashion which he was more than happy to embrace. She was not wearing any underwear and the neat thatch of curls at her apex was beautifully framed by the cream stockings. He breathed deeply certain he could smell her arousal. She widened her stance slightly and folded her arms.  
"I believe you know what to do."


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N I have a chapter with a bit more meat in it tonight. Thank you again to everybody who has reviewed, followed and favourited. I got a lovely guest review which I couldn't reply to. They asked for more domestic scenes. Sadly our intrepid pair have been out and about quite a bit recently but hang in there for the finale...I'm going for full domesticity there!**

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Hermione paced anxiously up and down the floor of her kitchen, come living room. The soft cream silk of her evening gown whispered against the floorboards as she moved but, for the first time since Lucius had overhauled her wardrobe she paid little attention to her own clothing. Her eyes were fixed on the bedroom door where a very grumpy Lucius Malfoy was preparing for an evening at the muggle opera.

It had been Hermione's idea. It was all very well, she said, being seen mingling with the pureblood families and at fancy society events but wasn't it important that the ordinary wizarding world be reminded that she was still at heart a muggle born woman of the people? Lucius had argued that all she needed to do in order to facilitate that impression was to allow herself to be photographed during any one of her numerous meetings with National Hero No. 1 Harry Potter. He had unwittingly walked straight into Hermione's neatly baited trap. She had gleefully informed him that she had four tickets for the opening night of Carmen which Ginny Potter, who had inherited her father's love of all things muggle, was desperate to attend. She had promised him that if he would escort her not only would she be seen with Harry and Ginny but she would allow them to be photographed too.

Try as he might to weasel his way out of it Lucius had to admit it was the perfect opportunity, thus he had endured the horrific experience of the muggle tailor (although Hermione thought the latter part of the trip had made up for the indignity of being quite so carefully measured). He had point blank refused to allow Hermione to help him into the tuxedo though. He had taken it and himself into her bedroom and magically locked the door. He had been in there for over half an hour, Hermione was beginning to wonder if he had climbed out a window.

Finally the door opened and a very self conscious Lucius emerged. Hermione swallowed hard. She was used to Lucius Malfoy. He cut an imposing figure in his wizarding robes and quite a mouth watering one naked. She had not expected to be so affected by the sight of him in muggle evening dress. The well cut dinner jacket accentuated his broad shoulders, tapering snugly to his flat stomach and narrow waist. The trousers hugged his muscular thighs, enhancing the length of his legs and somehow making Hermione feel even smaller in comparison to him.  
"You look very nice." Her mouth had gone dry.  
Lucius scowled. "I look ridiculous."  
Hermione shook her head. "Would you turn around please."  
He gave her the patented Malfoy raised brow but, undaunted, she circled her finger at him. "Turn around." He sighed loudly but complied.  
Hermione gave a little hum of approval. "You should check the pockets."  
"what for?"  
"Sometimes they leave them sewn up, you might need me to unpick them for you."  
He cast her a scowl over his shoulder but thrust his hands into his pockets. Hermione could not contain the moan that escaped her as the fabric of his trousers was pulled lovingly over the tight sphere of his arse. Lucius spun around in surprise.

"Why Miss Granger, you little lech." His self consciousness appeared to have been short lived as he strolled towards her in his usual predatory fashion. She retreated away from him until the back of her thighs hit the kitchen table.  
"Am I to assume from your woeful lack of self control and manipulative behaviour that you approve of my new clothes?" His hands were on her waist, his warm breath brushing her cheek.  
She placed her own hands on his chest, gently stroking the cotton of his pleated shirt front. "I very much approve."  
"Good." His tongue traced the outline of her ear as he pressed against her. Muggle trousers and a very thin silk dress did little to conceal his growing arousal.  
"Lucius!" Her voice sounded ridiculously breathy as he began to bunch up the silk of her dress.  
"Yes?"  
"We're going to be late."  
"I don't' care."

They weren't late. Hermione had factored in Lucius' irrepressible libido, although not his protracted dressing time, into her scheduling. They met Harry and Ginny outside the theatre just before the final bell rang. Hermione was immensely grateful to her two friends as they greeted Lucius cordially. Harry even went so far as to shake his hand rather than the only-just-not-rude head not he had favoured the older man with before. Lucius had, of course, turned on the charm, congratulating them both on Ginny's pregnancy and asking politely about the their baby preparations. Hermione found the whole event a little surreal. In truth she was very grateful to be seated inside the warm theatre with the physical barrier of her body between Lucius and her friends.

Lucius proved to be a most irritating companion. Despite the fact that Hermione knew he spoke better French than she he fidgeted constantly and kept up an incessant stream of questions which, when coupled with Ginny's own queries meant that Hermione took in very little of the performance.

The queue on the stairs between acts was painfully tight and Hermione was feeling thoroughly disgruntled when they finally reached the bar. Lucius took himself off to buy their drinks and Ginny excused herself to make an obligatory visit to the bathroom.

Harry grabbed Hermione's arm and pulled her into the relative privacy of a corner of the bar.  
"Mione what have you done to Malfoy?"  
Hermione's eye was immediately drawn to the tall, pale figure at the bar. His blond hair was no less striking for being tied neatly back from his face. "You mean getting him into a tuxedo, it was not easy Harry."  
"No!" The boy who lived rolled his eyes at his friend's gross stupidity. "I mean getting him to apologise to Ginny."  
"He apologised? When?"  
"Back there on the stairs, I heard. You were too busy reading your programme to notice. Did you put him up to it?"  
Hermione shook her head, dislodging a few curls from her careful up do. "Of course not. I don't think I have that sort of influence." She looked back towards Malfoy who was handing over a muggle note as if he frequented these establishments frequently, waving at the bar tender to keep the change.  
"Do you think he's changed though?" Harry's gaze followed hers, "I mean really changed? He seems so different now."

Hermione chewed her lip, thinking back to the Lucius Malfoy she had known in the past. The man who had taught Draco to call her mudblood, who had stood by as she was tortured, who had slipped Voldemort's diary into Ginny's cauldron. She didn't recognise that man. And even the man coming towards them across the crowded bar in a muggle tuxedo, his hair pulled back, juggling three glasses of wine in his large hands with a bottle of water for Ginny tucked untidily into his jacket pocket seemed unfamiliar. "He does, doesn't he?" She answered Harry as she stepped forward to relieve Lucius of his burdens.

She took in even less of the second half. Even though the show was excellent, the singing sublime, the costumes splendid she didn't notice a thing which irritated Lucius no end rendering her unable to answer any of his questions.

They exited the theatre to flashbulbs muggle in honour of the opening night, poorly concealed wizarding in honour of Harry and Hermione. Harry and Ginny obligingly posed, Hermione less so, Lucius acted as if the photographers weren't there at all.

Hermione insisted they get a taxi home. At almost nine months pregnant Ginny was far too pregnant to apparate safely anyway and she was excited at the prospect of experiencing a taxi ride. Lucius was clearly less impressed as he folded his long elegant form into the black cab. He regarded Hermione curiously as she leaned across him to pull the seatbelt down over his body.  
"This will hold you in place if we crash." She demonstrated the seatbelt by yanking hard on the fabric, next to Lucius' head. He gave her a supercilious look but out the corner of her eyes she saw him surreptitiously testing the seat belt.

As they drew out into the London traffic Ginny made a moue of displeasure.  
"This isn't quite as appealing in reality as in my imagination." She sniffed heavily, "What is that smell."  
"Diesel I think," Harry placed his hand gently on her knee. "I think you might be a little more sensitive than most right now." Hermione smiled at the two of them.  
"You do realise this is probably the last time I'm going to see you two before..." She paused before gesticulating meaningfully at Ginny's distended belly.  
"Oh don't say that." Ginny rubbed her stomach. "I'm terrified!"  
"I'm excited." Harry turned to her with a grin.  
Lucius twitched his lips in his closest approximation to a smile. "I remember feeling a combination of the two before Draco was born."  
Three sets of eyes swivelled towards him and he shrugged rather defensively. "I am capable of the odd bout of human emotion from time to time."  
"Wonders never cease." Harry muttered half under his breath. Hermione shot him a malevolent look which he correctly interpreted. "I never imagined I'd see you in a muggle taxi Mr Malfoy." He said in a more conciliatory tone.  
Lucius gave a disdainful sniff. "There are some forms of muggle technology I am willing to embrace Mr Potter," he said rather stiffly. "I do not think motor cars will be one of them."  
"I quite agree." Ginny broke into the rather tense conversation, "this is even worse than a portkey, are we nearly there?"  
Harry glanced out the window. "Yes we are." He tapped on the glass and the driver flicked on his intercom. "Can you let us out here please?"  
Hermione noticed they were still a couple of streets away from Grimmauld place, clearly Harry's amnesty with Malfoy didn't quite extend to letting the older wizard know where he lived.

The taxi drew to a halt.  
"Take care," Hermione, leaned over to hug Ginny. "Owl me when you have _news_ OK?"  
"I will." Ginny smiled as Harry hopped out of the taxi and came round to the other side to help her out. Just before the red headed witch heaved her considerable bulk out of the cab she leaned across the aisle and placed her hand on Lucius' leg.  
"Thank you Mr Malfoy." She said quietly before planting a soft kiss on his cheek. With a final wave at Hermione she was out of the taxi. As they pulled away in the direction of Hermione's flat she saw Lucius raise his hand to touch the spot on his cheek that Ginny had kissed.

He didn't speak for several minutes. Finally though he turned to Hermione. "Now Miss Granger please enlighten me, can muggles truly predict the future using such a blunt instrument as a pack of cards?"

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It was an unfortunate angle, that was all. Well, it wasn't just the angle. It was one of those photographs which contrive to falsely capture a moment in time that never truly existed but is held forever immortalised. Lucius had somehow managed to lean over Hermione whilst simultaneously staring at her with a look of such visceral hunger that even she was slightly unnerved by it. Meanwhile she, apparently unaware of the fact that her companion appeared to want to eat her alive, was looking up at him with a look which could only be described as vacuous devotion. The photo took up the whole front page of the Daily Prophet with only a small insert in which Hermione repeatedly stood on tiptoe to kiss Lucius and his hand (now helpfully circled in red) repeatedly palmed her backside.

Rita Skeeter had just returned from three weeks in the Caribbean which seemed to have done little to blunt her quill when it came to Hermione. The by line was no more flattering than the photography. The vitriol filled piece suggested that Hermione Granger had been dangerously influenced by her death eater lover, that her continual fraternisation with pureblood families was evidence of her having been brainwashed by the depraved Lucius Malfoy. The article hypothesised that she was little more than a vapid handmaiden to a criminal mastermind and a vote for Hermione Granger was, in truth, a vote for Lucius Malfoy and pureblood supremacy.

Hermione had ignored the prophet. She had ignored the three owls Lucius had sent her asking if she was alright. She could not ignore Harry, Ron (and rather surprisingly) Draco, when they arrived at her desk baring (inedible) food from the canteen and the latest opinion polls. Hermione's share of the vote had significantly dropped. Despite her friends' reassurances she was devastated. She had wanted to lock herself in the toilets and cry but Hermione Granger was not a weeping in the cubicle kind of girl. Instead she ate the horrible canteen food. Drank a cup of tea with two sugars and thanked the boys for their support. Then she shooed them out of her office and got on with dealing with the ongoing saga of the purple cows (one had given birth to a magenta calf).

As she expected Lucius was waiting for her when she arrived home. She wasn't sure which of them was more surprised when she flung herself into his arms and sobbed inconsolably against his robes. Lucius had patted her back in a slightly awkward manner before withdrawing a handkerchief from his pocket and offering it to her.

She slumped onto the sofa, a picture of self indulgent misery. Lucius took a seat next to her.

"You know, Hermione," his thumb brushed across her knuckles and she realised with a flash of warmth in her chest that he was holding her hand. "I've been expecting this backlash for some time now. The election is less than a week away and The Prophet has played right into our hands."

"Really?" Hermione gave a loud sniff. "You do know I actually want to win the election don't you?"

"Of course, and now your opponents think you're done. They will concentrate their slander on each other ignoring you."

"That's because I am done Lucius, I'm a vapid handmaiden." She succumbed to a further storm of weeping.

Lucius sighed. "You are not a vapid handmaiden although your weeping is most irritating. "

"Thank you so much, that's exactly what I wanted to hear. How do I prove I'm not a vapid handmaiden?"

"I would have thought that would be obvious, perhaps you are getting a bit intellectually flabby now you have me to think for you!"

She slapped his arm. "It's not obvious to me Mr Malfoy so please, enlighten me, how do I prove I'm not a vapid handmaiden to a criminal mastermind."

Lucius smirked. "By breaking up with him of course"

Hermione gazed at him, completely silenced. _But I don't want to break up with you_ a small voice whispered somewhere in the depths of her mind. Lucius proved himself not to be a mind reader as he opened the ever present diary and ran a long finger down the pages.

"Perfect." He breathed. "In two days time you have your final candidates debate, followed by a dinner at the ministry." You can dramatically and publicly sever your ties with me there. He sounded so matter of fact. Hermione bit her lip and avoided his eyes. He misunderstood her discomfiture lifting her hand to press his soft lips against her skin. "It will work, I promise you." You'll be occupying the Minister for Magic's office by next Monday.

Hermione nodded at his words and allowed her head to drop down onto his shoulder. She believed him, how could she not? He had steered her course so perfectly throughout her entire campaign she would not lose faith in him now. Why then did what she needed to do seem so terribly wrong?

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 **A/N Well they couldn't just carry on doing the washing up together and having amazing sex forever could they?**


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N Thank you so much for all the reviews for the last chapter. I think we can safely say that the general readership are not in favour of them breaking up... I feel I should warn you that there is some fairly full on smut in the next chapter - nothing compared to some of the stuff I've read but probably a bit more than we've had so far in this fic. If you don't really like that stuff then you can skip the second half of the chapter. I've got three more chapters to go after this one and an epilogue. I'm so excited about finishing the story I almost posted two chapters today but I decided to play it safe since the ending isn't quite written yet. Thanks again for reading.**

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Hermione was taking the sensible and mature approach to her problem and avoiding Lucius. It was surprisingly easy, she was beginning to consider herself a master of subterfuge. Severus Snape would have had nothing on her. After Lucius' frankly ridiculous suggestion the previous evening she had gone to bed and genuinely had fallen asleep almost immediately. She assumed that Lucius had followed her at some point because when she awoke the following morning he was asleep beside her his blond hair tangled with her brown curls on the pillow.

It was shortly after awakening that her previously unknown stealthiness began to manifest. She had made it out of bed and into the kitchen without waking him. She had used her wand to summon her clothes from the bedroom and hastily dressed before rushing out the front door teeth and hair unbrushed. She had done her best to tame her hair in the toilet of her local coffee shop and guilty purchased a pack of sugar free mints in lieu of toothbrushing. By 7:30 am she was at her desk, ready for the day ahead and (most importantly) ready to avoid any sort of difficult conversations with her...what was he exactly?

At 10:30 she ignored the owl Lucius sent her suggesting that they meet to talk. She quickly realised though that her location was now compromised and promptly relocated to Harry's office in the auror department. Harry and Draco were both there going over a case together when Hermione bustled in and placed a pile of work down on one side of Harry's desk.

"I need to use your office for the rest of the day." She picked up her quill and started looking through a medical text looking for side effects of imbibing magically coloured dairy products.

"Ok, fine." Harry's voice was placatory, "Are you OK Hermione, you look a bit..."

"Wild." Draco supplied helpfully, "There's hardly room for us in here with your hair Granger."

"Feel free to go somewhere else then." Hermione didn't look up from her book.

"Is something wrong?" Harry clearly had a death wish.

"No." Hermione continued to read.

"Then why are you here?"

"I'm hiding." She turned a page.

"From who?" Harry actually sounded concerned.

Hermione looked sternly at them over the top of her book. "Your father." She addressed Draco.

"Well that explains a lot. I spent most of my childhood doing that. What's he done now Granger?"

"Nothing." Hermione turned another page.

"Well why are you hiding from him then?" Draco asked.

"He wants to break up with me." She said the words in the same tone she used to order her weekly Chinese takeaway.

Harry and Draco didn't respond for several minutes. Clearly their Y chromosomes were making the conversation difficult for them.

"Erm are you sure?" Harry cautiously ventured. "He seemed to quite like you a couple of nights ago."

"Forty-eight hours is a long time in the world of Lucius Malfoy, do you have a medical dictionary?"

"No." Harry placed his hand over the pages of the book, blocking her view. "Mione what's really going on."

Hermione pointedly ignored him.

"I know." Draco was looking smug and examining his cuticles.

"You do?" Harry and Hermione spoke together.

"It's obvious isn't it?"

"Not to me." Harry was beginning to look irritated.

"Keep your hair on Potter." Draco was appeared to be enjoying himself immensely. "You saw yesterday's Prophet, my father has turned from a political asset to a liability. In situations such as this the sensible thing to do is to protect the primary asset, in this case the easiest way to do that is to dissociate himself from it."

"Are you the primary asset?" Harry asked Hermione.

"I think so." She looked over at Draco who was wearing the Malfoy sneer.

"Of course Granger's the primary asset, unless you think I'm likely to elected Minister for magic in the next forty-eight hours." Harry and Hermione both shuddered at the thought.

"So your dad wants to break up with her so she'll still be elected?"

"I imagine so, although I suspect he wants Granger to break up with him."

Harry looked back at Hermione, "So he won't really be breaking up with you Mione, it's just temporary until you win the election." He turned to Draco, "Right Draco?"

Draco shrugged the sneer slipping slightly. "Well that depends."

"On what?" Harry and Hermione were in unison again.

"On how much he likes Granger obviously." Draco rolled his eyes, "Honestly, it's not advanced arithmancy is it? He clearly likes you enough to let you break up with him for your own political gain, which by the way Granger is a pretty harsh thing to do, whether he likes you enough to get back together after the dust has settled..." He shrugged.

"But breaking up with him was his idea!" Hermione couldn't hide the irritation in her voice.

"Well of course." Draco spoke as if to a toddler. "You are the primary asset."

"I'm going to go and hide in Ron's office." Hermione stood up and gathered her books and parchments into her arms again. "If your father shows up tell him you neutralised the primary asset."

Draco swallowed audibly, "I really don't think that would go down well Granger, he's pretty protective his assets."

She rolled her eyes at him before leaving.

Predictable as ever Ron asked fewer questions than Harry and after looking relieved when his offer of punching Lucius' lights out was turned down he left Hermione in peace for the rest of day. Not that she achieved a huge amount. By 8pm and having eaten three meals in the ministry canteen she was tired, hungry and fed up. She desperately wanted to go home and take a shower but Lucius was bound to be there. Short of booking into a muggle hotel she didn't know where to go, then inspiration struck. Lucius would be in her flat, therefore the last place he would consider looking for her was his own home, which incidentally he had informed her she could apparate into at will.

The manor was strangely quiet as Hermione arrived in the hallway with a soft pop. She hesitated looking around the imposing space. She had been here twice before. Once when she was tortured by Bellatrix and once when Lucius had had his way with her on the very spot upon which she now stood. She stepped to one side. Other than a strong urge not to revisit the site of her previous torture she had no idea where to go. What she really wanted was a hot bath and a warm bed. She started towards the staircase almost falling off of the bottom step when Bee appeared before her.

"Mistress Hermione!" Bee looked confused. "The Master is not being here."

"I know Bee." Hermione bit her lip, "Will you have to punish yourself if you don't tell him I'm here?"

Bee shook her head happily. "Bee is only having to punish herself if The Master asks and Bee is not answering." She reached out and took Hermione's hand. "Is Mistress Hermione needing a bath?"

"Yes, how did you know?"

"Bee knows!" The little elf replied mysteriously before leading Hermione upstairs.

She was more than a little disconcerted to be lead into a room which could only be The Master's bedroom. She turned to tell Bee that a guest room might be more appropriate but the little elf had already disappeared into the adjoining bathroom and was busily readying a bath. Hermione followed and promptly forgot her protestations. Lucius' bathroom was quite the grandest she had ever seen. It was tiled in white from floor to ceiling, the metal fittings were a predictable gold but they hardly registered. Hermione could not take her eyes from the gigantic sunken bath, as big a small swimming pool which was rapidly filling with water and enough bubbles to completely obscure Hermione should she wish it. As soon as Bee had gone she sank gratefully into the almost too hot water, closing her eyes and giving a soft sight of mingled pain and pleasure as Lucius' familiar scent wafted up at her from the bubbles.

She almost fell asleep amongst the bubbles but finally she roused herself and regretfully climbed out of the tub. In the bedroom she found a tray of food and a beautiful green silk negligee. Bee obviously felt that her usually utilitarian flannel pajamas were not appropriate for the splendor of Malfoy Manor. Not much fancying putting her dirty clothes back on her clean body Hermione shrugged into the negligee. It wasn't as if anybody was going to see her in it anyway. After picking at the food Bee had left her and gratefully brushing her teeth she climbed into Lucius' very large, very comfortable bed and picked up one of the books she had brought with her from the office. She was engrossed in a long winded description of the therapeutic effects of magically coloured milk when the bedroom door opened and Lucius entered.

"Miss Granger." He closed the door behind him, pressing his back against it as if to make it clear that that particular avenue of escape was blocked. His eyes flicked across her silk clad torso. "And beautifully gift wrapped too."

"How did you know I was here, Bee promised not to tell you."

"Did she now?" His voice was silky, "Fortunately my wards are more obedient than my household staff. I felt it as soon as you entered the house."

"Oh."

"Oh indeed." He moved away from the doorway and approached the bed. Hermione's eyes flickered towards the door, could she slip past him?

"You really must learn not to project every action you are about to attempt." Lucius withdrew his wand from its customary home in his snake topped cane. "Incarcerous."

Hermione gave a shriek as her arms were secured above her head, the book fell to the floor.

"You see?" Lucius replaced his wand and dropped the cane on the end of the bed, "you were completely unaware of my intentions."

"Your poker face is excellent." Hermione pulled against the ropes, "Point taken. Could you let me go please."

"I think not." Lucius sat down on the bed his black clad thighs close to but not touching her chest. "You've been avoiding me Miss Granger."

"Not really no," Hermione valiantly avoided his eyes. "I've just had a busy day."

"Really?"

"Yes, very busy, in fact I should really be getting some sleep now if you could just see fit to untie me." She gave a convincing yawn.

Lucius leaned forwards placing his arms on either side of her head.

"I don't think so Miss Granger. I think you and I need to have a little talk."

"I'm much too tired to talk." She closed her eyes. "Maybe tomorrow."

"Hermione look at me." Her eyes popped open at the use of her given name. He held himself over her, his hair almost touching her face, his grey eyes as cool and inscrutable as always. He slid a finger down her cheek, over the curve of her chin and down her neck until it rested between her silk clad breasts. Her nipples hardened at his touch. Lucius smiled as her obvious arousal became apparent through the thin silk.

"At least part of you is paying attention to me." He lowered his lips to hers and allowed them to touch, just a whisper of a kiss. Hermione bent her neck trying to deepen the contact. He smiled more broadly,

"Now you're listening."

Hermione sighed. "I don't want to talk about it Lucius."

"I know, but I'm going to make you. Tell me what you are going to do tomorrow after the candidate's debate."

"I'm not doing it."

"You are." His voice was sharp. His warm hand slid across her silk clad belly. "Do you want to be minister for magic?"

"Yes"

His hand slid lower. "Then it's easy. All you have to do is pick a little fight with me tomorrow evening and all your dreams come true.

 _Not all of them._

"Lucius there has to be another way."

"There isn't." His thumb was brushing her nipple and Hermione gave a moan.

"Promise me you'll do it." His lips were against hers once more and the world had become a little foggy. It was difficult to think coherently when he was so close, when she wanted him so badly. And what had Draco said? As long as he liked her enough then he would forgive her. Her lips moved of their own volition.

"I'll do it."

"Promise me."

"I promise."

"Good."

The conversation over, he continued to play with her nipples as he kissed her deeply his tongue languidly exploring her mouth. The sensation was overwhelming, somehow heightened by her own restraint. She was almost painfully aware of the soft brush of his hair on her cheek, of the press of his warm body against her own of the slight hint of stubble on his jaw as he moved against her. She gave a low hum of pleasure as his hand slid between her legs.

"You're so wet." His rich voice came in a hoarse whisper. "So wet for me, tell me how much you want me."

She gazed up into his got grey eyes, pulling a little against the ropes that bound her. She wanted to touch him.

"Please."

He withdrew his fingers. "Please what?"

She whimpered with frustration. "Please touch me again, Lucius, your fingers." She arched up against his hand and he obliged by sliding two digits inside her.

"Now let's try that again." His cut glass tones against her ear. "Tell me how much you want me."

"I want you. I want you so badly Lucius. Please don't stop."

He didn't stop, his fingers slowly slid in and out of her, his thumb sliding up to press against her clit. Completely disinhibited now she gave another wail of pleasure.

His lips found hers once more, his kiss unhurried as his fingers continued to work inside her.

"Tell me you want me again."

"Yes, I want you."

His finger's hooked forwards hitting a part of her no one had ever touched before. She bucked her hips wildly, almost propelling them both off of the bed.

"Tell me you want only me."

"Yes," she panted against his neck, his silky hair partially covering his face. "I only want you, nobody else has ever made me feel like this."

He hooked his fingers into the same spot again and she came screaming his name as she convulsed wildly around his fingers.

She felt him momentarily pull away and then he was inside her, his cock pushing aside her swollen tissues, almost painful in its incursion. She squeezed the tight walls of her sex around him, whispering his name as he fucked her through her orgasm. She felt him harden and start to tense and readied herself for his climax. It didn't come. Instead he pulled out of her and suddenly he was straddling her face, his engorged cock pressing against her slightly parted lips. She opened willingly for him and took him as deeply as she could, tasting her own arousal on his silky flesh.

"You are mine Hermione Granger." She barely recognised his growl as he thrust repeatedly into her mouth. "Mine and mine only. Tell me!"

He pulled away, his hand fisting his cock just above her mouth. Hermione gazed up at his jutting member, his muscular thighs, the strong flat plane of his stomach, past his shoulders where his platinum hair hung in disarray into his hot grey eyes which regarded her so intensely.

"Yes, I'm yours Lucius, only yours."

He gave a choked cry and ejaculated over her face, pressing his cock between her lips once more so the majority of his come was caught in her mouth. She licked the rest from his cock and from her own lips as he shuddered above her.

He pulled away to sit on the bed, his back to her.

"Forgive me." His voice was hesitant.

Hermione wiped a hand across her mouth. "I do Lucius." She pressed a small hand to his back and felt his body relax. He turned and lay down beside her pulling the sheets over them both. He didn't speak again but they lay together in the darkness for a long time before Hermione was finally claimed by sleep.

He pulled her towards him again in the early hours of the morning. She gave a groan of dissent.

"Lucius, not again, I'm sore." He had barely left her alone all night. It shouldn't have been possible for a man of his age to be so voracious. Countless times he had waited for her to fall deeply asleep before he woke her up, stroking her to yet another orgasm before before pounding into her over and over again, reaching his own climax every time. The final candidates' debate was only hours away and Hermione was worried that she wouldn't even be able to stay awake for the whole event let alone stage a break up with Lucius.

He had ignored her rebuttal, rolling on top of her and pressing his soft lips against hers. Her resistance lasted less than five seconds. She opened easily for him, drinking in the taste and texture of his soft, surprisingly full lips as he kissed her languorously. She was still wet from their many bouts of earlier love making and he slid easily inside her. She whimpered a little as her bruised flesh stretched to accommodate him but he was uncharacteristically gentle as he moved inside her. He looked down at her rocking his pelvis against her own. The expression in his eyes was soft but intent, his gaze never deviating from her own until Hermione looked away, closing her eyes with an exhalation of ecstasy as she came for the final time.

He didn't pull out. Simply rolled a little to the side so as not to crush her, keeping her firmly encased in the circle of his arms.

 _I love you._ The words formed in the front of her mind where she quickly trapped them behind her closed lips. Lucius Malfoy was not the sort of man any sensible woman would allow herself to love.


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N Thank you so much to everyone who has reviewed so far, I love your reviews and also I find some great stories by seeing what you guys have favourited! I just read an amazing Lumione one shot called Play Cissy for me by the artful scribbler. She's extended the story too but it's not complete yet - that didn't stop me from reading it until 2am this morning!**

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Hermione took her place at the dais, smoothing imaginary creases from her robes with hands which she refused to allow to tremble. She had ignored the ripple of whispering that had overtaken the room as she had entered with Lucius as usual. The ministry's conference hall was full to the brim, the four ministerial candidates all sitting anxiously at the raised table, and the assorted members of the press filling the rest of the room. There was an air of expectation punctuated only by the odd flash as photographers attempted to get a shot to trump those on the front page of the Daily Prophet two days previously.

Hermione smiled over at Kingsley Shacklebolt, glad to see a familiar face presiding over the events. He smiled back but quickly schooled his face into neutral as he looked around at the room.

"Good afternoon everyone. It gives me great pleasure to welcome you to the final ministerial debate and to introduce for the last time our candidates: Mr Bilious Bartlewait, Mr Anthony Crane, Mr Augustus Thwinge and Miss Hermione Granger. There was muted applause after the announcement of each candidate, perhaps hers was a little less effusive, she wasn't sure.

"We will begin the session by taking questions from the floor."

And they were off! Hermione began to relax as she easily fielded questions from the press and from the other candidates. Her ideals had changed little since she was a Hogwarts student. She had been arguing her progressive politics with her fellow students since before puberty.

"Miss Granger," the question came from a Prophet reporter, "Have your feelings on Pureblood supremacy changed over the last few months?"

Hermione's eyes flicked to those of Lucius, he was looking straight at her a ghost of a smile on his lips.

Hermione shook her head firmly. "No, of course not. As a muggle born witch I will never endorse the idea of pure blood supremacy. I am uncomfortable with judgement being passed on any sentient being based purely on their heritage." There was a ripple of approval throughout the room. "However," Hermione held up her hand to indicate that she had not finished peaking and a number of eyes turned expectantly to her. "I have had the privilege of spending time with a number of pureblood wizards, and their families. It has given me a valuable opportunity to see that our differences are less seismic than I had previously thought. I hope that many of my goals can be met whilst still respecting ancient wizarding culture and not entirely sacrificing the ideals of the older wizarding families." There was an interested buzz at that.

The conference wore on. Hermione tried to stay focused as the same old topics they had been debating for the last few weeks were dredged up over and over again. Yes, she did believe in freedom for house elves. Yes, she did think there should be grants for muggle born and poverty stricken pureblood wizards attending Hogwarts. No, she didn't think that her inability to deal with the purple cow situation was indicative of her general lack of preparation for a role as arduous as Minister for Magic (that did give her pause for thought though, the cow saga had been dragging on for weeks, she must be missing something).

Throughout the entire, miserable affair Lucius sat quietly three rows from the back, waiting for her to descend from the dais and publicly renounce him. Hermione wondered how he could be so calm. She had never been much of an actress, she was experiencing serious stage fright at the thought of her own performance. Lucius was almost certainly a better liar than she and she supposed all he had to do was react to her vitriol, he would definitely be playing the supporting role…As he had done since he had agreed to help her in her election campaign. She tried not to fidget and dragged her attention back to the debate, managing to slip in the success of her werewolves rights bill. Her mind slipped back to Lucius. How could a man so dominant in so many ways, who was used to a position of power and authority stand to one side and allow a much younger, inexperienced young witch, of questionable blood status assume authority? No wonder the press had found cause to question their relationship. But Hermione knew better. She knew that Lucius truly did not want to play an active role in politics anymore. She could see that his ideas were much changed and she even afforded herself some credit that she had been in-part responsible for this change but she could also see that he was happy to leave the implementation of change to those who were younger and less jaded than himself. To people like her. It gave her a warm glow to think that Lucius trusted her.

She almost dropped the glass of water she had been about to drink from. Lucius trusted her. And she was willing to put him aside for her career. If the endless press conference ever finished she was supposed to calmly walk across to him and humiliate him in public. She placed the glass of water down carefully. It hit her with startling clarity that if she manipulated her relationship with Lucius in order to win the election then she was no better than the sleek politicians she so despised in the muggle world. Furthermore she truly would be using Lucius, whether she had his consent or not. This was not the sort of politician, not the sort of person she had ever wished to become. She glanced at Lucius again. He had everything, he was powerful, rich, beautiful and solitary. When had anyone ever sought him out for the pleasure of his company rather than for what he could give them? And she was no better. She had approached their relationship thinking only of what she could take from him, not what she might give. Even Draco knew what she was about to do was wrong. Since when had Draco Malfoy possessed a stronger moral compass than she? There was no choice to be made, even though it meant breaking her promise of the night before she would not renounce Lucius.

Applause from the floor reached her ears and she realised that the candidates' debate was finally over. She stood numbly and posed with the other candidates for a final round of photographs. When it was over she mechanically made her way towards Lucius, wondering exactly what she was going to say. He looked down expectantly at her as she neared him.

"Not your best performance Miss Granger." His face was a cool mask but she took no notice. He was merely giving her the opening she required. She didn't respond.

"What's wrong with you?" His voice was sharp now, the cut glass tones drawing the odd look from the crowd. "Is your woefully poor communication on stage going to extend into our private time now too?"

"That's enough Lucius." She placed her hand on his arm feeling a slight flush climbing her cheeks.

"Well that is considerably more than I can say about your performance up there, I thought you actually wanted to win this election." He cruelly mimicked her own words with humiliating accuracy.

"I do, but Lucius I've decided…."

"Oh, so you are deciding things now, I thought that was my job."

Hermione gazed at him in consternation. His voice was so cold, so clipped, there was not a hint of affection in his grey eyes. A flicker of doubt stirred in her chest and quickly took flame. She was the primary asset, was that all she had ever been? No, he was just playing his part in their plan, trying to prompt her into taking the course of action he thought was unavoidable. Despite trying to reassure herself she flinched away from him when he leaned down towards her once more.

"You're no use to me if you don't win Miss Granger." She locked eyes with him then, frantically imploring him to show her some element of what they had shared. His eyes remained cold, his face set and of its own volition her frantically working brain suddenly assembled a disjointed series of images and presented them to her in the jerky fashion of an old fashioned cine film. Flourish and Blotts. The quidditch world cup. Hagrid's hut, The department of mysteries, Malfoy Manor. Malfoy Manor. She could hardly bear to bring her eyes to his but when she did she saw him. Lucius Malfoy. Lucius Malfoy of Malfoy Manor. Unconsciously her fingers pressed against the tattoo hidden beneath the sleeves of her robes. She licked her lips, her tongue was dry and swollen. Her usually agile mind had seized on one image: Malfoy Manor. She actually gave a shriek of terror as Lucius grabbed her arm hard enough to bruise her.

"You stupid little mudblood he hissed at her, we had a plan, can't you do anything properly?" He shook her with bone rattling intensity.

Somewhere, deep inside Hermione something snapped. She was not prone to physical violence, in fact there had only ever been one human being who had moved her to it before and now identical cold grey eyes were looking mockingly at her. She pulled herself free of his grip and before she had time to consider her actions she slapped him hard his face snapping sideways from the strength of her blow. Their argument had already drawn the attention of most of the room but the crack of Hermione's small palm against Lucius' aristocratic cheek ricocheted off the surrounding walls, every eye was on them. Hermione cradled her palm against her chest, the skin instantly burning hot. Corresponding colour bloomed across Lucius' cheek. Hermione raised her eyes once more to his. How could she ever have thought him anything but cold?

"Don't ever call me that again." She was surprised at how steady her voice was as she turned and walked away, the sea of reporters parting before her.

She stayed for the dinner. Of course she did. She had quite literally got into bed with Lucius Malfoy in order to win the election, there was no point in falling at the last hurdle now. She ate the numerous courses even though every mouthful tasted of ashes. She did not look at the empty place setting next to her. During the drinks reception she mingled and chatted with the main influencers of the wizarding world. The election was two days away, this was her last chance to garner support.

Finally she left and apparated home. She didn't know what she had expected when she entered her small flat but what she found was complete order. It was as if the previous four months had never happened. Not a trace of Lucius Malfoy remained. His clutter, his clothes, his toiletries were all gone. Her bed was freshly made up, he hadn't even left her his imprint on the pillow.

"Bee?" She whispered. Nothing happened, the elf was gone too. She gazed around, her fingers brushing the smooth kitchen worktop as if reassured that this at least remained. For a moment she wondered if she had fallen asleep and dreamed the whole thing.

She made her way through the living room to her bedroom and dropped to her knees in front of the chest of drawers. Carefully lifting up several pairs of tights and some old underwear which had been consigned to the bottom drawer once Lucius came on the scene she searched desperately for the scrap of paper she knew was there. She carefully lifted out a picture, carefully clipped from the daily prophet. A picture in which she repeatedly stood on her tiptoes to kiss a slightly surprised looking Lucius Malfoy. Clutching the picture to her chest Hermione leaned back against the side of her bed and finally allowed herself to succumb to tears.

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 **A/N I'm so sorry!**


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N Hi Everyone, (waves nervously). I'm so sorry about the last chapter but it had to happen right? There's got to be some conflict to keep things interesting... To those of you who are seriously hating on Lucius right now (and how could you when he's just so hot?!) I hope this chapter goes some way to redeem him. I'd like to thank all of those who have reviewed once more but especially _pgoodrichboggs, aliduck_ and _Zeeksmom_ who have left me some lovely, encouraging (and only vaguely threatenting) reviews. **

**For those of you who like to know the lie of the land I anticipate one more proper chapter after this followed by an epilogue so we really are nearly done!**

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The bloody house elf hadn't shut the curtains properly. She'd had no business opening them in the first place and Lucius had told her that in no uncertain terms. She had squeaked with horror at his rage and dragged the heavy drapes closed once more, then run off, probably to iron her hands. He didn't care. Alright he cared a little, but only because he knew Hermione wouldn't like it.

A single ray of sunshine had penetrated the tiny crack between the inadequately pulled curtains and had awoken him from sleep. As if that was not sufficient insult it was also causing his head to pound, or perhaps the brandy he had consumed the night before, or earlier that day, he wasn't sure, was causing his head to pound. Anyway he knew a solution for that. Keeping his eyes closed against the obtrusive sunlight he reached blindly across the bedside table only to knock the bottle there onto the floor. He cursed loudly and rolled onto his side seriously considering sucking the alcohol from the heavy carpet. The effort of getting out of bed seemed too great though and instead he pulled the pillow over his face blocking out the sunlight and hoping for the return of sleep.

It was not forthcoming. He was convinced the pillow held the faintest trace of her scent. He hadn't changed the sheets since she had spent the night in his bed and, although they were now heavily permeated with the smell of his own unwashed body and stale alcohol, on occasion he still caught a hint of her. His memories were immediately drawn back in the same vicious circle within which they had moved for the past two weeks. Had it really been two weeks? He wasn't sure. As long as he stayed in his room with the curtains drawn and her memory still in his bed then it was almost as if no time had elapsed. The downside was that he appeared to be trapped in a single endless day with each minute more miserable than the last.

This wasn't what he had planned. Of course he hadn't planned for any of it. Not really. The first time he had fucked her there had been no plan beyond getting inside her as quickly as possible. The second and third time hadn't been any different. Then somewhere along the way he had started to think beyond his next orgasm, had allowed himself to contemplate a future which included the two of them together. He had never intended to permanently sever their tie. He had merely planned for a small public spat which would be quickly resolved as soon as Hermione was made Minister for Magic. He hadn't objected to the humiliation. Considering his life to date and the joy of being with Hermione it was a small price to pay.

He had watched her with such pride during the debate. Not since Draco had taken his first steps had he felt such fierce pleasure in the actions of another. She had been magnificent. Admittedly he had known that her mind was not entirely on the debate but it hadn't mattered. Hermione Granger at eighty percent capacity was still a head and shoulders above the dumb bastards who thought they could oppose her. He had been lost in daydreams of her great future when he had noticed her expression change as she almost dropped her water glass. It was moments later that he realised that Hermione Granger was about to sacrifice herself on an alter of his absolution. He had become a last ditch redemption project, on par with House Elves and Werewolves in the Hermione Granger list of 'people who need to be looked after'

He would not allow it. He had finally met someone with the same degree of blind faith as Lord Voldemort. The only difference was that instead of the terminal outcome of that belief being death and destruction Hermione sought to bring progress and change, No matter how ridiculous he thought her ideals it was clear that she cared for the greater good. Lucius had followed one master blindly almost to the destruction of the wizarding world. He had thought his lesson learned so he was rather surprised to discover that Hermione had unwittingly inspired a similar level of devotion. His path was clear. Hermione Granger deserved to Minister for Magic and she was about to throw it away because of misplaced affection, towards him of all people. If she would not voluntarily sever their connection then he would goad her into it.

It had been so easy, painfully easy. He was as used to concealing his true feelings as she was to showing hers, he knew how to manipulate, how to wound and he twisted his knife viciously. It hadn't taken much. Their shared past was too dark for her to have truly buried it. Her soft brown eyes had clouded then filled with fear and he had seen the exact moment when he had lost her. The moment when sleeping beauty woke up, realising someone had been in her bedroom all along and it wasn't the handsome prince. He hadn't expected her to slap him but it had been perfect, he hoped the Prophet's photographer had caught it on camera. He had returned home almost exultant, but his exuberance had faded along with her handprint on his cheek.

He wondered why her loss affected him so badly. Why his first ever truly selfless act was causing him nothing but pain. He wondered why the end of a brief relationship which neither of them had even dared put a name on was causing him more sorrow than the dissolution of a twenty-year marriage. When the wondering became too much he drank.

Eventually the call of his bladder was too strong to be ignored and he staggered into the bathroom to relieve himself. After natures' call had been satisfied he leaned on the sink, his reflection barely visible in the almost dark room. He was glad he couldn't see himself. He knew how he looked, his face gaunt and unshaven, his hair greasy, his eyes red rimmed. Rather ironically he resembled himself when Lord Voldemort had taken residence in his home. He splashed water on his face, it was time to summon Bee and demand more brandy.

A soft click alerted him to someone entering the bedchamber. He frowned, the house elves knew better than to come in without knocking. He strode into the adjoining room with something of his usual vigour before realising he was still too inebriated for such speed of movement. Slowing his pace he staggered back to the bed before looking balefully towards the door where Draco was frowning at him.

"You look like shit father."

"Thank you Draco, it's good to see you too." He lay back against the pillows blissfully closing his eyes.

Draco strode into the room, Lucius opened a single eye in order observe his son managing the gait much better than he had.

"To what do I owe the pleasure of your company?"

Draco ignored him pulling the drapes open fully and cranking open a window. "How long have you been in here for Father, it stinks?" He cocked his head inhaling sharply through the Malfoy nose. " _You_ stink." He amended.

"Again, thank you." Lucius winced as the sunlight scorched his pupils.

Draco wandered around the room vanishing empty glasses, bottles and teacups.

"Have you decided to give up your career as an auror in order to become a house elf?" Lucius asked acerbically.

"I've been thinking of asking Granger out." Draco 'evanescoed' a half eaten sandwich. "I thought you could suggest a suitable activity!"

"What?"

"I know you two didn't go out much but you must have some idea of what she would like. Dinner perhaps? I could take her clubbing I suppose..."

"Draco I imagine Miss Granger is much too busy with her ministerial duties to want to go to a nightclub."

Draco frowned. "She seems to have things under control, I think she'd appreciate something fun, light hearted, you know. She must have found you a little...staid."

Lucius pinched the bridge of his nose. There were so many things wrong with his son's logic but his pickled brain could hardly string the necessary words together to reprimand him.

"Draco I think staid is probably an appropriate term for the social activities of the newly appointed Minister for Magic."

Draco snorted. "Well I'll remember that if I decide to romance Thwinge, as it is I think I'll start with Granger."

"What?" Lucius sat up straighter ignoring the pounding in his head as he stared at his son. "Hermione didn't win?"

"Of course she didn't win Father." Draco picked up the final empty brandy bottle and gave it a derisive sniff. "How much of this have you had? She didn't even stand."

Lucius stared at his son wordlessly. Draco narrowed his eyes.

"Have you been in this room for two whole weeks?"

"Of course not. I've been to the bathroom and last week I went for a walk in the grounds." It had lasted five minutes but that wasn't the point.

Draco rolled his eyes in a manner that Lucius would not have tolerated had he not been so drunk…and hungover.

"So you don't know what happened? You haven't even looked at the papers have you?"

"I find myself disinterested in current affairs at present." He said haughtily, closing his eyes once more.

Draco gave a groan. "You are an idiot father." He said in a conversational tone. "Bee." He called.

The house elf popped into the room. "Master Draco, how may Bee serve?"

"Fetch the pensive from my father's study please."

She nodded and popped out of the room. Lucius didn't deign to open his eyes.

Several minutes later he hear a soft thud as Draco laid the pensive down on the bedside table.

"What are you doing Draco?" He asked tiredly.

"Shooting myself in the foot." His son answered cryptically. "Now sit up and put your face in the bloody pensive."

Lucius sat up and attempted a snarl to which his son appeared to be immune.

"Oh for fucks sake," Draco's snarl was considerably more impressive, "just get on with it."

Lucius felt himself grabbed forcefully from behind and his face shoved into the liquid in front of him. He fell through the blackness to land on a hard tiled floor.

He scrambled to his feet, looking around him curiously. He was in a corridor in the ministry of magic. Draco and Ron Weasley strode ahead of them their aurors robes swirling around their legs. Lucius felt a flash of pride in his son as he followed them in the direction of Hermione's office. Weasley knocked on the door and he heard her voice calling for them to enter. She looked tired and her eyes were red but her face was calm, almost serene. She got to her feet and hugged Weasley before turning to Draco with a quizzical look.

"The Weaslette is in labour." His son told her. "I've come to offer my services as your wing man." She hesitated for a minute before embracing him too. Lucius' pride was quickly replaced by jealousy.

"Are you absolutely sure about this Mione?" Weasley interrupted the hug. Hermione pulled away from Draco to look at them both.

"Absolutely."

"Ok then." Weasley gave a long suffering sigh but offered her his arm. "Your public awaits you." She slipped her arm through his and extended her other hand to Draco. "Coming ferret?"

"I'm an almost fully qualified auror now Granger show a little respect." He took her hand though.

The three of them made their way along the corridor with Lucius following behind. They made their way to the ministry atrium which was filled with press and ministry workers. A small wooden lectern had been placed just in front of the statue of Harry Potter. Hermione stopped just beside it. Draco squeezed her hand before stepping away from her.

"Good luck Granger, you realise this is an incredibly Gryffindor thing you're about to do right?"

Hermione smiled, "I know, one can only hold back one's true nature for so long." She patted Weasley's bicep and went to stand behind the lectern.

The two boys stood back.

"Absolute nut job." Weasley muttered to Draco.

"Tell me about it."

Hermione applied the sonorous charm to her throat before placing her wand on the lectern and gripping its wooden sides. Her knuckles were white her face equally pale, the freckles on her nose standing out in sharp relief.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, members of the press." She smiled regally at the assembled reporters. "Thank you all for attending today. Before I make my announcement I wish to thank everyone who has pledged their support to me in the forthcoming election. I believe it says a lot about the progression of our society that so many would be willing to entrust their future to a muggle born witch. I feel privileged to call the wizarding world my home and your acceptance means a great deal to me." She paused.

"It is therefore with great regret that I must inform you that I have decided to withdraw from the ministerial election." She waited for the excited chatter generated by her response to die down. Lucius started towards her before he remembered that he was witnessing Draco's memory. She bit her lip before speaking again, her most obvious nervous tell. "I wish to apologise to the public and to Mr Lucius Malfoy." Her eyes flicked to Draco for a brief moment before she stared forwards once more. "I used my relationship with Mr Malfoy to manipulate the public to my own ends."

This sparked quite a hubbub and Lucius winced as several shouts of,

"We don't care!" and "Serves the smarmy bastard right, we'll vote for you anyway!" were heard above the melee. Once more Hermione waited for silence.

"I wish to apologise to you, the people, for my behaviour but most importantly I wish to apologise unreservedly to Mr Malfoy, my actions were dishonourable and not in the spirit of how I wish to pursue my political career or lead my life in general."

"Bloody Gryffindors." Draco muttered to Ron. "This is professional suicide."

"This is so beyond Gryffindor," Weasley hissed back, "This is classic mental Hermione."

Hermione was finishing her speech. "I would like to wish the remaining candidates good luck in tomorrow's election. I very much hope to continue serving the wizarding community in my capacity as Head of Muggle Relations. Thank you very much for your time."

She stepped away from the podium ignoring the hubbub that broke out around her. Weasley and Draco fell in on either side of her and they retreated back in the direction of which they had come. Lucius felt a hooking sensation in his stomach as he fell back out of Draco's memory.

"What the fuck was that?" He looked accusingly at Draco.

"That's what happens when you shag a Gryffindor," Draco removed his memory from the pensive and held it back to his temple. "They can play the Slytherin for so long but then something happens in the their brains and they get all noble and self sacrificing."

"But I called her a mudblood."

"I've called her mudblood several times and she still likes me."

Lucius rubbed his forehead. "I don't think the circumstances were quite the same."

Draco considered this for a moment. "Possibly not, I think if we start going out I'll make a point of not calling her that anymore. She'll appreciate the gesture."

Lucius wasn't sure whether he or his son were more surprised by his next move, he lunged forward and grabbed Draco by the scruff of his neck. "Let me make myself very clear Draco, Miss Granger is strictly off limits, do you understand me."

"Not really." Draco pulled away, straightening his rumpled robes and looking unflustered. "If she's good enough for you I don't see why she isn't good enough for me."

"She is much too good for both of us." Lucius started towards the doorway.

"Then where are you going?"

"To beg her forgiveness obviously." Lucius reached for the doorhandle only to hear the lock click. He turned back to his son. "Open the door Draco."

"Don't you think you might want to wash your hair first?" Draco gently put his arm around his father and guided him towards the bathroom, wincing slightly. "Maybe you could really push the boat out and brush your teeth too hmm?"


	14. Chapter 14

**A/N Hi Everyone, so here is the last proper chapter of my first ever fanfic. I can't quite believe that a one shot PWP has turned into 40,000 words of P with a bit of plot. Thank you everyone who reviewed and inspired me to keep writing. Even during the throes of NaNoWriMo I don't think I have ever written so much so quickly before.**

 **I apologise for this chapter being so long. I actually wasn't going to put any smut in until champion reviewer Aliduck suggested that there really ought to be some - I couldn't disappoint her but it added quite a bit to my word count.**

 **There's a short epilogue to come just to tie up a couple of loose ends. Thank you all for reading.**

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Hermione was wallowing. She had not previously considered herself much of a wallower but over the past two weeks she had discovered quite a talent for it. The working week wasn't too bad. She was unable to shirk her duties as Head of Muggle Relations so despite the fact that she had felt as if she had been staked through the chest she had turned up for work the day after her break up with Lucius. She had thrown herself back into it with every ounce of her being. To her shame she had to admit that she had perhaps been a little distracted over the past few weeks. The mystery of the purple cows seemed to solve itself overnight. Of course it wasn't the cows that were enchanted, it was the grass!

She apparated up to Scotland and spent an enjoyable few days casting counter-spells, obliviating muggles and chasing down the elderly witch who had cast the enchantment in the first place and framed her drunken neighbour for it. The long distance apparition plus the demands of so much intensive charm work ensured that for the first few nights after Lucius left she slept rather well. Working like a demon on her return she had her backlog cleared in days. She took on new projects and responsibilities well outwith her jurisdiction. She was first at her desk in the morning and last to leave at night. Inevitably she ran out of work.

Thus by the second weekend of solitude she was thoroughly miserable. Even reading brought her little solace and in a fit of desperation she had taken herself to the nearest 24-hour-supermarket and bought the largest television she could find. Working out how to get the sensitive piece of equipment to function with so much magical energy in her flat had taken almost an entire day but finally she was ensconced on her sofa with a large bowl of popcorn and an even larger pile of DVDs. If she were to nurse a broken heart then she would do it properly by keeping the curtains permanently drawn and watching Gone with the Wind at 4pm on a Saturday afternoon.

She was achieving these goals with alacrity when the picture on her newly purchased television began to flicker. She frowned pressing buttons at random on the remote control when she realised that the disturbance on the screen reflected the fact that someone had tripped her wards. She turned, looking over the back of the sofa to the front door just in time to see it open as Lucius stepped through.

Her heart began to thunder in her chest. He looked dreadful, perhaps his enchanted painting had run out of magic. His eyes were bloodshot and there were fine lines around them that she had never noticed before. His skin was even paler than usual and his grey eyes appeared curiously haunted. Only his hair hung in its usual serene platinum waterfall. She had imagined this moment numerous times over the past few weeks. She had pictured how she would feel if she saw him again. She had been afraid of him at the ministry, but here in the safety of her flat where they had shared so much she no longer feared him. She had imagined anger but the flames of her rage had long been extinguished and seeing him now she felt no urge to fan them once more. She merely stared at him for several seconds both her heart and her brain curiously empty. In the background Rhett Butler and Scarlett O'Hara were arguing passionately.

"Hermione." Lucius spoke urgently, crossing the room towards her. Then his eyes shot to the TV which did rather dominate the dimly lit room. He was brought to a halt like a toddler on their first trip to the cinema. He frowned. "Who are these people?" Approaching the TV he reached a hand out to the screen then peered behind it rather like a dog with a mirror. "Is this like a floo call?" His eyes were riveted to the screen. Rhett had gathered Scarlet into his arms and was carrying her up the stairs, a feat which had always made Hermione's quads burn in sympathy.

"No," She said tiredly, "It's a television set, kind of like a book with moving pictures."

"Oh." Lucius walked backwards until his calves hit the edge of the sofa and he sat down next to her. His eyes remained glued to the screen. Hermione sighed. She had witnessed a similar phenomena with Ron. A pureblood wizards' first exposure to the television was an overwhelming experience and whatever Lucius might have come to say was not going to be said until things with Scarlet and Rhett had run their course. She sighed again. Gone with the Wind was a very long film. Lucius' fingers brushed against hers as he reached for the popcorn and she snatched her hand away.

Finally it was over, Vivien Leigh had wept her last and returned to Tara and The End was emblazoned proudly in white letters briefly lighting the dimmed living room.

"What?" Lucius almost shouted, jumping to his feet. "This cannot be the end. What happens next?"

Hermione shrugged. "That's the end of the story Lucius, some relationships just don't work out." There was an unintended edge to her voice.

"But so much has been left unsaid, surely there is hope for them." His haunted grey eyes met hers briefly. "Can the muggles who made the book be prevailed upon to update the story?"

Much to her surprise Hermione laughed. "I'm afraid not, the film is seventy years old. I do have something though." She stood up dislodging a pile of sodden tissues and popcorn crumbs from the blanket she had placed over her lap. Searching the bookcase behind the sofa for a moment she pulled out a battered paperback. "Another author thought the story was unfinished too so she wrote this, it's not great but it's the best I can do." She proffered the book.

"Thank you." Lucius reached out to take it from her, their fingers brushing again. Hermione pulled away once more.

"What are you doing here Lucius?" She hated how pathetic her voice sounded and she turned away before he could answer, switching on a lamp and beginning to pick up the tissues from the living room floor, suddenly aware that she was still in her tartan flannel pyjamas.

"Hermione?" She paused her frantic tidying to look over at him. His eyes ran over her body, she self consciously touched her hair which was admittedly even more unruly than usual.

"You look terrible," he sounded a little shocked.

"Thanks, that was just what I needed to hear." She snapped dumping a handful of tissues in the waste bin. "You aren't looking your best either."

Lucius ran a hand over his face, he looked…..uncertain, not an expression Hermione was used to seeing.

She crossed to the DVD player and extracted Gone with the Wind snapping it back into the CD case. Lucius' eyes followed her every move.

"There are more of these, stories?" He asked as she placed Gone with the Wind at the bottom of her chick flick collection.

"Of course."

Lucius came to stand beside her and she schooled herself not to inhale as his familiar scent washed over her. He carefully picked up a DVD box between thumb and forefinger and regarded the case with interest before spreading the others sideways so all of their covers were revealed. Hermione was profoundly grateful that Lucius was a wizard and not a muggle. Any self respecting muggle male would realise that her choice in films had 'broken hearted female' written all over it. His eyes widened at Pretty Woman and he held the box out to her.

"This one."

She pursed her lips. He had clearly come to her home with the intention of saying _something. S_ he suspected if he were to flagellate her for giving up the election then he would not have been so easily distracted by her TV. Whatever he wished to say did not appear to be forthcoming so she wordlessly took the box from him and inserted the DVD.

Lucius' face as Julia Roberts tripped across the screen in her knickers was quite a picture. It occurred to Hermione that she didn't know if wizards had access to any form of pornography. Judging by Lucius' expression she thought not. Whilst he had previously been critical of muggle fashions he didn't seem to object to Julia's wardrobe and as the final credits rolled he dragged Hermione into his lap and brought his lips down upon hers kissing her urgently. She kissed him back at first. It was impossible not to. His lips were soft and warm and expert against her own. She curled her hands into his hair enjoying the taste and smell that she had missed so much and for a moment allowing herself to forget everything but the joy of his body against hers. But when his hand began to make its irrevocable way to her breasts she pulled away, tumbling from his lap and onto the floor.

She looked up at him, half sprawled on her back. He had let her go without a struggle and was now leaning forward his head in his hands his blond hair trickling over his fingers.

"I'm sorry." He said the words so softly she wondered if she had misheard. "I'm sorry." Louder this time.

she struggled into a sitting position. "What for?"

He refused to look at her. "For the things I said, for frightening you, for everything that I was before."

"Lucius." She placed a gentle hand on his knee.

"I saw your face during the debate." His tortured grey eyes met hers. "I knew you couldn't do it, I knew you were going to stand by me and because of that you would lose the election. I've ruined so many people's lives Hermione." He ran his hands over his face. "People like you, people who I thought didn't matter because of their _blood."_ He pronounced the word as if it felt dirty on his tongue.

He looked at her once more with blistering intensity. "I have tried, in my own way to make amends. I know nothing I can do will make up for my previous actions but I have tried." He fell silent again, staring wordlessly at the blank TV screen. "Then I found myself wanting you. I have never wanted anyone or anything as much as I wanted you. And it made me happy." He blinked furiously. "It made me happy because I thought that if I could want you so badly then I truly had changed and maybe I did deserve you."

Hermione reached out and took his cold hand between hers. "You do deserve me."

He sighed but didn't take his hand away. "But _you_ most certainly do not deserve _me_. Draco showed me his memory of your announcement. You ruined your political career on my account."

Hermione squeezed his hand. "I wouldn't say ruined, set back a number of years perhaps."

"Your ten year plan is now untenable."

She shrugged. "It was more of a guideline really, it's not as if I stuck to every aspect of it. I was supposed to meet my future husband this year too."

The silence stretched awkwardly between them for a moment.

Finally Lucius spoke again. "I was angry when I realised you were about to give up your chance to be Minister for me. I should have accepted your choice not bullied you into a fight by intimidating you in such a way. If you would be willing to give me another chance I will endeavour to be less domineering."

Hermione inched closer to him, their knees just touching. She reached up to cup his cheek. "I think that would be rather like you promising to be less blond or me promising to be less inquisitive. There are some parts of our personalities which are too deeply ingrained for change."

"And you are willing to accept me in spite of my flaws?"

He looked rather affronted when Hermione snorted with laughter.

"You find my attempts at reconciliation amusing?"

"No." She gave another snort, "Yes perhaps." She scrambled into his lap once more. "You must admit that Lucius Malfoy, former death eater, pureblood wizard and curaotor of the oldest wizarding name in Britain begging muggle-born Hermione Granger to accept him in spite of his flaws is rather amusing."

He tried to look stern but she could feel a hand sliding under her pyjama top and ghosting up her spine. This time she kissed him giving a soft sigh of approval as his tongue gently parted her lips to taste the soft flesh inside.

"You haven't answered me?" He pulled back, panting a little, his lips slightly swollen.

"Oh." Hermione frowned and coiled her hands into his soft hair. "I don't remember the question."

His lips were against her neck, his tongue flicking against the pulse that beat there. "You were going to forgive me."

"Oh yes! Of course I forgive you and although it will be extremely difficult I am willing to try to live with your overbearing boorishness in the future."

"Your magnanimity is heart warming."

He kissed her again, putting an end to their discussion for several minutes. Finally and with some reluctance Hermione began to disengage herself from Lucius' embrace. He gave a discontented grumble as she removed his hand from her right breast and scrambled off his knee.

"What are you doing?"

"Erm." She ran her hands self consciously through her hair. "It's not that I'm not very excited to see you and very turned on obviously but I…"

"Are you menstruating, you know that is of little import?"

She remembered all too well that Lucius was not a man to be dissuaded by a small thing such as a period.

She blushed furiously, "No, no, it's not that. It's just I wasn't expecting to see you and I'd really like some personal grooming time before we….er…reacquaint ourselves. If you know what I mean."

Lucius had raised an eyebrow to almost stratospheric heights. "I have no idea what you just said."

"I want to shower before we fuck Lucius."

"Oh!" He frowned. "Well why didn't you say that? You have ten minutes Miss Granger, after that I will be forced to enter the bathroom and physically extract you."

She didn't need to be told twice and scurried into the bathroom as fast as her legs could carry her all the while mentally cursing her tartan pyjamas. Of course she was delighted that Lucius was here. In her flat, not a scary death eater but the man that she had fallen in love with and everything was going to be alright. But secretly she wished she'd had some warning. Nobody likes to be caught on the hop in their heartbreak pyjamas with unwashed hair and…she didn't even want to think about the state of her bikini line.

She turned on the shower and, stripping off her much maligned pyjamas began casting every personal grooming charm she knew. Considerably less hairy than previously she stepped into the cubicle and allowed the torrent of hot water to flatten her bushy hair. Eyes closed she pressed her forehead against the cool tiles. He was really here.

She shrieked as a large pair of cold hands grasped her breasts.

"That wasn't ten minutes." She gasped as Lucius' naked form pressed against hers his cock jutting against the small of her back.

"I'm not a patient man." His lips were against her water slicked neck. "I thought I might expedite the washing process." He reached around her to grab the bottle of shower gel from the shelf of toiletries in one corner. Holding his hands in front of her so she could see what he was doing he squirted a generous amount into one hand before replacing the bottle. Then he rubbed his hands together lathering the soap.

Hermione lay back against his long, hard body, her head against the upper part of the chest, unable to resist rubbing her buttocks against his arousal. Lucius groaned softly and raised his soapy hands. She had thought he would go straight for her breasts but instead he brought them to her neck, encircling the slim column with both his hands rubbing his fingertips up into her hairline and across the angle of her jaw. There was something deeply erotic in the feeling of his large powerful hands moving so gently over such a vulnerable area. He moved down to her shoulders, his thumbs dipping into her axillae and making her squeal and clamp her arms firmly to her sides. He coaxed them up above her head, stroking over each bicep and all the way down her lower arm along to her fingertips. Hermione had never known that her inner arms were an erogenous zone before.

Then his hands were moving again across her rib cage and she wantonly thrust her breasts out to meet them. Except that he merely moved his hands over the very lower limit of them before rubbing concentric circles over her belly one finger dipping into her belly button. Hermione gave a frustrated moan, grinding her backside harder against him. She felt his amused huff in her ear as finally he slid his soapy hands up to rub his palms gently across her aching nipples. He spent quite some time soaping them, his fingers circling her areola then rolling her nipples between his thumb and forefinger and finally plucking cruelly at the engorged peaks until she was whimpering mindlessly.

One hand made its way slowly once more across her abdomen to where she ached for him. Even with the lubrication of the running water and the soap that clung to his fingers there was no mistaking how wet she was. Her sex felt almost painfully engorged and the sensation as his dextrous fingers parted the swollen lips and slid inside was almost overwhelming. His thumb flicked lazily over her clit and the urge to surrender herself entirely to his ministrations was almost to strong to resisit. She hung right on the edge of orgasm, every nerve ending on her body on fire and stimulated by the man behind her.

"Come for me." His mouth was right against her ear and his words nearly pushed her over.

"No!" She surprised them both with her breathy plea as she reached down to still his hand between her thighs. "I want to come with you inside me, please Lucius."

He was on her so quickly she didn't quite understand what was happening until he had her pinned against the wall of the shower held in place by his upper body. Her delightfully sensitised sex crushed against his belly. She wrapped her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist as his mouth plundered hers. There was no gentleness, no finesse now only his hard lips moving with bruising intensity against her own. She wriggled, trying to rub herself against him, desperate for friction. As if sensing her desperation his hands went to her waist and he carefully lowered her onto his cock filling her to the hilt in one swift thrust.

She gazed at him for several seconds, her mouth dropped open in surprise and pleasure as the shattering sensation of fullness consumed her. She had been on top before but there he had allowed her to control the depth to which she took him. Now she felt impaled as if his cock was the only thing holding her up. Heat began to pool in her belly and she realised she was once more on the brink of coming. Then he began to move.

As he began to pound into her with almost painful intensity Hermione's head fell back against the tiles, she didn't care that her shoulders were being grated against their rough surface all she could feel was the mind numbing pleasure of Lucius moving inexorably inside her. She came screaming his name. Moments later he slammed his hands against the wall on either side of her head and she felt herself held up only by his hips as he emptied himself into her, his forehead pressed against hers, his breath hot on her face he shuddered through his own climax.

They emerged from the bathroom some time later. Hermione feeling much more like the heroine of one of her chick flicks in a short silk robe and Lucius in her dressing gown which he had transfigured into something that would not have looked out of place on Rhett Butler.

They flopped contentedly onto the sofa, both still feeling a little boneless from their frenzied lovemaking. She laid her head on his shoulder and he gently stroked her hair which she had charmed dry.

"Why did you pull out of the election?"

Hermione thought for a moment before she answered. "I had lots of reasons."

"Such as?"

"I wanted to win on my own merit, I felt I'd run a dirty campaign, it wouldn't have felt right winning that way…." She paused.

"And?"

"And, I wanted you to know that you were more important to me than the election."

"Why?"

She sat up to look him in the eye. He was sprawled on the couch, his face as beautiful and as inscrutable as always. She narrowed her eyes. "You really don't know do you?"

"Know what?" He frowned.

Hermione gave a long suffering sigh. She reached forward and picked up the stack of DVDs on the coffee table.

"Pick one."

Lucius gave her a curious look but began to rifle through them once more. He hesitated on "You've Got Mail."

Hermione shook her head, "No, too many unknown concepts, we'd be here all night." She picked out a couple more DVDs "Not Pride and Prejudice, I watched it twice yesterday, and not this one." She blushed slightly as she removed another box from the pile.

"Very well." Lucius contemplated his reduced selection. Finally he held out a box. "I believe this story is not unfamiliar to me."

Hermione looked down at his choice _Romeo and Juliet._ She smiled and put the disc in the DVD player.

It had been a long day for Hermione. In fact it had been a long fortnight. Now curled against Lucius in post coital bliss she quickly succumbed to the inevitable. She woke up disconcerted but warm and comfortable, her head resting in his lap as the final credits rolled up the screen. Lucius used the remote control to mute the television.

"You picked that up quickly." She muttered, tilting her head backwards so she could look up at him. Lucius was returning her gaze with a look of triumph on his pale face which seemed disproportionate to the rather small victory of mastering the remote control.

"I know." He said.

"Know what?"

"I know why you wanted me to know I was more important to you than the election."

Her heart flipped uncomfortably. "You do?"

"Yes, and furthermore…" He hesitated.

"What?"

"...I love you too."

Neither of them said anything for several moments. Hermione scrambled into a sitting position and onto Lucius' lap once more.

"Are you sure?" She asked.

"Quite sure." His eyes flicked towards the TV. "This device is rather distracting." He used the remote to turn it off completely. "I'm not sure I wish to furnish the manor with one after we are married."

"After we are what?" Hermione's voice had risen to a shriek.

Lucius looked unperturbed. "Married Miss Granger. You do want to get married don't you? It is after all part of your ten year plan."

"The plan is more of a guideline…." Hermione wriggled in his lap, her fingers toying with the lapels of his dressing gown. "And you are supposed to be less overbearing…..I may need some convincing…." Her teasing was interrupted by a shriek as Lucius lifted her into his arms and strode towards the bedroom.

"What are you doing?" Hermione squeaked.

"Miss Granger I am much too old to do my convincing on the couch." He dumped her unceremoniously on the bed.

Hermione awoke hours later and stretched languorously, the dull ache between her legs a welcome reminder of pleasure given and received. For a moment she savoured the peace and quiet of her room and allowed her mind to run through and process the events of the previous day. She had become engaged to Lucius Malfoy and she was effervescently happy. As her mind strayed to Lucius she turned her head expecting to see his blond hair spread out over the pillow. She sat up in surprise when she realised that he was gone.

Her heart gave a little lurch before she told herself that he had probably merely gone for a drink of water or to the bathroom. There was no reason to think that he had left. Nonetheless she sat up in bed, fully awake now. She cocked her head, could she hear something? Padding softly toward the door she realised that the television was on in the living room.

Lucius was sprawled across her couch in his Rhett Butler dressing gown. Several open DVD cases were strewn around him and his attention was focused fully on the flickering screen in front of him but he acknowledged her presence with a half raised hand.

"How do muggles get anything done?" He muttered still gazing at the screen.

Hermione chuckled then felt her face suffuse with colour as she realised just which DVD he was watching. At the same moment Lucius must have become fully cognisant of her presence as he shot her a smouldering look.

"Miss Granger." His hand snaked up to grab her wrist and he pulled her down on top of him against his very obvious arousal. "I had no idea your tastes were so exotic. Whilst I am still thoroughly opposed to installing one of these devices in my family home I believe a room such as the one depicted here…." His eyes flicked briefly at the screen, "…..would be more than acceptable."


	15. Epilogue

**A/N As promised here's my last instalment. I'm not always a fan of epilogues but there were a couple of things I wanted to tie up - really I just wanted _everyone_ to be happy at the end of my fic. Maybe next time I'll try something a little darker. Thanks again for all the lovely reviews - I now realise that when people say reviews make them write faster they are actually telling the truth! **

* * *

**Ten years later**

Hermione ran her hands over her hair for the tenth time in as many minutes. Her chignon seemed to be holding, at least for now.

"Tory!" She gave a relieved cry as the floo sparked green and Draco's wife stepped out of the hearth hotly pursued by Draco and the incorrigible Scorpius.

"Hermione, you look lovely." The dark haired witch warmly embraced her friend. "You also look stressed, where's Lucius?" She whispered as she kissed the air next to Hermione's cheek.

"Merlin only knows!" Hermione rolled her eyes, "This bloody party was entirely his idea and I have no idea where he is or when he's coming back."

"Mother you look simply ravishing." Draco planted a kiss on Hermione's cheek. "How do you conceal the ravages of time so well? Scorpius, come and say hello to your grandmother."

"Draco, what a surprise, you're still not funny." She hugged him nonetheless. "Please will you go and talk to some of the guests?" She implored quietly, "I don't even know who half of these people are."

"Of course I will mother." Draco gave her a chivalrous bow, "It is the least that I Draco Malfoy, order of Merlin First Class can do for my ageing step mother."

Hermione laughed in spite of herself. "You know I'm pretty sure the Minister can still have that order rescinded." She called after his departing back.

Harry and Ginny were next to emerge from the floo and Hermione began to feel her heart rate decrease as she was surrounded by her friends. Ginny placed an excited Albus onto the floor where he rushed off in search of Scorpius.

"Where are the other two?" Hermione asked, glancing back at the empty floo.

"With their grandmother." Ginny rolled her eyes, "We were hoping to dump them all and really cut loose tonight but Albus is going through a clingy phase." The fond look she shot in her son's direction belied her words. "Where's your sex god husband Mione?" She looked exaggeratedly around the drawing room.

"I wish people would stop asking me that." Hermione fiddled with her hair again until Ginny slapped her hand away. "He had a meeting at the ministry earlier, he should have been home hours ago."

"I'm sure he's fine." Harry, took three glasses of champagne from a passing house elf and distributed them. "I see you've had this place redecorated, did torture chic not suit you?"

"Harry!" Ginny punched his arm so hard he spilled some of his champagne. Hermione only laughed.

"It's OK Ginny, I'm over it by now. Lucius redecorated before I even moved in. I honestly don't think about it at all now." She glanced down at her glamoured arm and shrugged. "It doesn't seem like the same house."

"I know what you mean." Harry looked around smiling, "I don't think I'd recognise it if I didn't know where we were."

"I would." They were interrupted by a vague sounding voice as Luna wandered into their group. "I'd recognise those cellars anywhere. Hermione did you know you have Wrackspurts nesting behind your couch?"

"No." Hermione almost allowed herself to look before smiling at her friend. "Thanks for letting me know Luna, I'll have Lucius look into it when he gets back."

"Good idea." Luna smiled, "Although maybe not tonight, I don't think he's in the best of moods…."

"Wait, have you seen him?" But the blonde girl had already wandered off to lose herself amongst the crowd. Hermione sighed once more.

Hermione was just beginning to consider placing a floo call to the ministry to try and track down her errant husband when her thoughts were interrupted by Draco's cry of "Mother!"

She would _not_ respond. She had been extremely firm with her stepson regarding her feelings at his repeated use of the title and she considered humouring him with a response only to be a mark of encouragement. She was therefore more than a little surprised when Draco appeared at her side with a terrifyingly familiar blonde woman on his arm.

"Hermione," She could tell he was nervous from his use of her first name. "I would like you to meet my mother, mother this is Hermione."

"Mrs Malfoy, what a pleasure to meet you." Narcissa gave Hermione a smile which might actually have been genuine as she took the other witches hand in her own.

"It's a pleasure to meet you too Mrs…" Hermione ground to a terrible halt, _Mrs what?_ She thought frantically. She knew Narcissa had re-married but she rather thought that marriage had ended too, she had no idea how to address her predecessor.

"Oh please call me Narcissa." The beautiful blond smiled indulgently at her and Hermione could only smile back. "Oh and here comes my new husband now. Hermione I believe you two already know each other. Viktor was such a comfort to me when things turned sour with Gareheart." She said in an undertone. Hermione was paying little attention though because walking towards her was Viktor Krum.

"Hermy owny ninny!" He kissed her hand, clicking his heels together as he did so. "It is so good to see you again."

"It's a good to see you too Viktor." She said a little breathlessly, shooting Draco a vicious _why didn't you tell me look,_ her stepson only smirked and examined his nails.

Things only got weirder as Ron arrived and had to be physically restrained by Harry such was his excitement at seeing Viktor Krum again. Draco was in his element, soaking up congratulations and champagne in equal measure, he was now actually wearing his Order of Merlin medal and bloody Lucius was still conspicuous in his absence.

Hermione was chatting politely to a group of older wizards and witches, none of whom she recognised when she felt the wards of the manor flicker. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Draco grimace. The wards of Malfoy Manor were extremely sensitive. Nonetheless Lucius was the only person whose mood seemed to actually transmit itself via them whenever he entered the property. Hermione flicked her eyes at Draco and looked pointedly in the direction of the entrance hallway. The incredulous look her stepson gave her inferred that there was absolutely no way he was about to face his irate father. With a sigh Hermione excused herself from their guests and moved across the room into the entrance hallway where Lucius was handing his coat and gloves to a terrified looking house elf.

"It is unbelievable." He turned to Hermione, glowering at her whilst attempting to re-tie his cravat.

"What is dear?" She slipped between his arms and planted a kiss on his jaw as her nimble fingers went to work at his neck.

"Don't patronise me." His words were harsh but he remained still as Hermione fixed the knot. "You look very nice." He added, glancing down the front of her dress.

"Lucius!" She smacked his arm. "You're late, I've had to talk to all sorts of people, Draco's head is so huge it's going to explode and Narcissa is in the drawing room and she's married to Viktor Krum!"

"Oh yes, Draco asked me not to tell you."

"What?"

"He wanted to see your face when you saw them together." He frowned. "You're not jealous are you?"

"What? Of Narcissa no of course not, although Viktor was always punctual. Where have you been?"

"I'm sorry." Lucius looked not at all contrite. "I was too angry to apparate."

"Too angry to apparate, Lucius that's the worst excuse ever, why didn't you use the floo?"

"I don't like getting soot in my hair. Now stop distracting me woman and look at this!"

He thrust a crumpled copy of the Daily Prophet at her.

 **Going Muggle?**

 **Yesterday evening Minister for Magic Hermione Malfoy presided over the award ceremony during which her stepson Draco Malfoy was honoured in receiving the Order of Merlin First Class for his part in the breakup of an international dragon egg smuggling ring. Auror Malfoy risked life and limb in order to return almost two dozen dragon eggs to their respective parents sustaining serious burns in the process.**

 **In an exclusive interview he told the Prophet that he was deeply touched to receive such an honour and thanked his mentor Harry Potter (the boy who lived) for his unwavering support during the arduous investigation.**

 **Mrs Malfoy and her husband charity CEO and entrepreneur Lucius Malfoy had only just arrived back in the UK after their first holiday together since Mrs Malfoy was appointed minister for magic (see page 4 for exclusive pictures.) Mr Malfoy is said to be delighted at his son's award.**

Hermione looked up a Lucius, her brow furrowed. "It's a bit sycophantic I grant you but Draco did do well breaking up the smuggling ring, I don't begrudge him a bit of publicity."

"Not the story!" Lucius jabbed at the paper in exasperation, "The pictures!"

Hermione turned the page, there was a full page spread and she winced to see herself pictured at her Ministerial inauguration, presenting Draco with his medal, kissing Lucius (at least they had removed the circle from his groping hand in this reproduction), slapping Lucius at the ministerial debate and finally walking through the arrival hall at the international portkey centre. Finally she looked up at her husband and shrugged.

"Admittedly my hair doesn't look that good in some of these but I fail to see how this rendered you too angry to apparate."

"Look at this one!" Lucius' finger stabbed the picture in the portkey centre.

"You look very nice." Hermione smiled at the picture, "I might add that one to my scrapbook."

"I" Lucius began to enunciate very slowly "am wearing jeans!"

"Oh." Hermione looked up at her husband so austere in his wizarding robes his blond hair as impeccable as always. Seeing him thus, standing in the hallway of his ancestral home it was difficult to imagine him wandering the streets of New York in a pair of jeans, it had certainly taken some convincing on her part.

"What will people think?"

"Since when did you care what people think?" She folded up the Prophet, carefully smoothing the picture, Lucius really did look good in his jeans, and his robes and….nothing. Glancing across at the still closed door of the drawing room she sidled closer to her husband, reaching up to wrap her arms around his neck. "You know I really liked you in those jeans." She rubbed her hips suggestively against his.

"Did you?"He was struggling to conceal a smirk as he lowered his mouth to hers. "How much?"

"Very much." Hermione tilted her head to allow him access to her neck then gave a shriek as she felt a sudden brief constriction and momentary darkness. Seconds later they landed on the bedroom floor. "I thought you were too angry to apparate?"

Lucius paused in the act of slipping her dress from her shoulders. "It seems my dear that you have soothed the savage beast, nonetheless I think it might be best if I abstain from socialising with our guests just yet, don't you think?"

Hermione didn't answer, she was too busy unbuttoning his shirt.

The real proper actual end this time


End file.
